Follow You
by bells90
Summary: She didn't know about his life before all this and he didn't know about hers, they never spoke about it, they didn't need to. They didn't need to know to understand.
1. Chapter 1

She held another woman's clothing in her hands having just removed them from the back of an abandoned car but Carol had long since passed feeling uncomfortable rifling through strangers belongings. Winter had set in and the dead had no need of possessions left behind. The living did.

"Anything?" Lori asked coming to lean against the car beside her and running a hand wearily through her dark hair. Carol's eyes flitted to Lori's baby bump and away. The pregnant woman did not have the pregnancy 'glow', their constant moving, stress and hunger, mostly the hunger, sapping her of any vitality.

"Some," Carol replied tucking the clothes into a bag. "Beggars can't be choosers," she joked but her words fell on deaf ears as Lori stared off into the distance, seeming not be listening. Carol glanced over her shoulder to see Rick picking his way through a cluster of vehicles further down the road, Carl striding proudly at his side, gun in hand. He'd grown up fast that boy, she mused as she watched him. He'd had to. But there was still something awfully childlike at his evident pride at how his father treated him as a man of the group.

"Why don't you just talk to him Lori?" Carol sighed turning back to her friend. The icy friction between their leader and his lady had festered to the point where they all felt it and it was beginning to weigh on all of them. No wonder Daryl took off for the woods whenever he could. As though her thoughts had summoned him Daryl appeared out of the tree line traipsing towards them in his long, easy stride. His face was expressionless, his cross bow hanging at his side and something furry dangling from his belt. It was only small, perhaps enough for a few mouthfuls each, but it was better than nothing. Not for the first time, and she was sure it wouldn't be for the last, Carol found herself thanking God or whoever or whatever might be listening that Daryl had decided to stay with them. Rick may be the one keeping them all going but it was Daryl who was keeping them alive. As though sensing her attention Daryl raised his head, his eyes locking on hers. Too slow to look away Carol flushed slightly at being caught staring and lifted the corner of her mouth in a small smile of welcome. He briefly nodded back before his eyes slid away. Carol turned back to Lori guiltily when she realised her friend had been speaking.

"-always but he won't even hear me," Lori fumed and Carol didn't have to guess what she'd missed of the rant, it had been the same things for weeks.

"So make him," Carol replied gently, as she always did.

"I'll try," Lori sighed, as _she_ always did. They both knew she wouldn't. Carol picked up her bag and moved onto the next car. Rifling through the contents she opened a black bag and stared in surprise. She reached in and pulled out a handful of notes, the bag was stuffed full with them, there had to have been hundreds of thousands of dollars in cash crammed into the bag. A smile on her face Carol zipped up the bag and slung it over her shoulder.

She returned to where they had made camp, dumping her spoils on the ground. She put her hands on her hips, stretching out her back her eyes falling on Daryl and Rick who were closest and in the middle of a discussion. Daryl saw her looking toward them and angled his body more toward her as though including her into the huddle.

"Just tellin Rick I found a place not far from here. Looked aroun' pretty good, might be able ta hold up there a while," Daryl told her.

She liked it, the way he included her in conversations, as though her opinion was warranted or even mattered. She'd go along with them, she always did, but it was nice to have it feel like she'd been consulted too.

"Great," she replied with feeling. "It'll be good to have a break from sleeping in the cars for a bit."

"Alright," Rick nodded. "When Glenn and Maggie get back we'll head over and check it out." He walked away and Carol turned back to the bags she'd lugged over from the cars. Despite the dwindling food she was stronger than she'd ever been, thanks in no small part to Daryl.

* * *

Several days had passed since the hurried evacuation of the Greene farm and Carol sat, dirty and exhausted, in front of the small fire. The flames had no power to drive the chill from her limbs and so she sat and shivered. She payed no attention to the group around her as she stared into the mesmerising flames. It had only occurred to her that morning – once the threat of imminent death had finally subsided – that Sophia's doll had been left behind on the farm. The doll Daryl had found when he'd tried so hard to bring her home safe. The doll that was the only thing left she had of her daughter. She knew she shouldn't care, that so many other things more imperative for their survival had been abandoned in the rush, but for her it was important. For her it was a reminder of the thing she had loved most in this world. She didn't know what she was anymore. For too long she had just been Ed's wife and for as long as had mattered she had been Sophia's mother. Now she had nothing. Now she was nothing. She didn't regret her words to Daryl the night they left the farm, they'd come out wrong but the essence was there. She _was_ a burden.

"Get up," a voice growled and suddenly a hand was closing its vice like grip around her upper arm. Too surprised to protest she was dragged to her feet.

"Daryl…what?" she gasped as she pushed her towards the trees.

"Come on," he spat pushing her forward again and she had no choice but to get her feet moving and walk... or fall. Once inside the tree line he stopped pushing her and she spun around to face him. Her angry words died on her lips when she saw he was holding up a knife, dangling from a black belt.

"What is that?"

"Funny, I thought even you might be able ta recognise a knife."

"I _meant_," Carol said through gritted teeth, "What is that for? Why are you giving it to me?"

"Don't ya wanna know how ta use it?"

The simple way he delivered the offer caught her off guard. Daryl Dixon wanted to teach her how to fight?

"Why?" she asked quietly.

"Cause ya gotta decide," Daryl told her, his eyes boring into hers. "Look, live or die its up to you but ya gotta make a choice. Ya don't wanna be burden? Then don't be. But I aint gonna waist my time keeping yer ass alive if ya don't wanna, alright?"

Carol stared at him silently for a moment before reaching out and, with a steady hand, taking the knife from him.

"Alright then," he nodded and turned back the way they had come.

* * *

"What have ya got there?" Daryl asked moving closer to her as she knelt by the bags she had collected.

"Bits and pieces," she replied with a shrug, sorting the bags into piles for storage in the limited car space.

"Bits and pieces," Daryl repeated with a smirk opening the black bag. "What, ya rob a bank while I was gone?"

Carol laughed, "Seems some people hang onto the stuff that'll be most important when the world is ending. I thought it might be good for lighting fires."

"Good idea."

Daryl watched as she mentally calculated the car space and sorted out what could fit and what needed to be reorganised. She was lighter these days he'd noticed, despite how dark their world was getting. He'd worried in the beginning that he was pushing the frail woman too far. Further than her body or mind could handle. He'd forced her to walk further, train longer and carry heavier things building up her strength, stamina and speed. She'd never complained, not once. Not when the soft skin on her hands and feet blistered before hardening, not when her muscles were so sore she struggled to get up in the morning. Everyday he waited for her to give up or explode at him for his harsh attitude. He thought he'd had her pegged but he'd quickly realised he couldn't have had her more wrong. There was nothing frail about this woman. She had her own strengths and he soon came to realise she was stronger than he could have believed. If any of them had reason to 'opt out' he thought it would have been her. She'd lost everything that meant anything to her and yet she worked harder than any of them. Cooking, cleaning, mending, listening, training from sun up to sun down she was making herself busy, whether to try and forget or to try and lose the 'burden' label she had given herself he wasn't sure. If truth be told, she kind of impressed him. Not that he'd ever admit that. He enjoyed spending time with her…not that he'd ever admit that either. But she just wasn't like the others. She didn't speak just to hear the sound of her own voice and so when she did speak, her words had weight. She was mother, sister, and friend to them all. She'd listen to every whinge, every complaint and offer sympathy or encouragement as desired in return. She'd turn inedible food into a meal. Clean and repair everyone's clothing. But she was more than that; she saw them, really saw them, for who they were. Somehow she knew what someone needed or needed to hear in any given moment in a way he never could understand. She saw him too. He tried to draw away from her, put up his walls against her to drive her away but it hadn't worked because somewhere along the way she had gotten under his skin. She didn't know about his life before all this and he didn't know about hers, they never spoke about it, they didn't need to. They didn't need to know to understand. He didn't have a word for what Carol was to him, he didn't really think about it. She was just important. Her life and her safety had become a priority…he wasn't sure what to make of that.

He helped her load the bags in the cars and once Glenn and Maggie had returned Rick called the group together. He explained what Daryl had found and that they were going to whole up at the house for a few days to recuperate before continuing on. Expressions brightened at the thought of a roof over their heads and space to stretch out to sleep and they moved about in a frenzy to prepare to move out.

Carol did a quick last scan of the area to make sure nothing was being overlooked before heading over to where Daryl sat astride his motorbike waiting for her. Since the farm she had traveled on his bike behind him. She wasn't usually one to outstay a welcome but she'd be damned if she was going to squish into one of the cars when he was willing to take her. Still, every time they'd move on she'd wonder if this morning might be the one he'd just take off but so far he'd always looked around expectantly and she'd immediately clamber on, fighting to keep the small smile from her face.

She wrapped an arm loosely around his waist, leaning against his back as he led the small convoy to just the next in a long line of shelters.

"I want to clear the radius before we move into the house," Rick said scanning keen eyes over the area. "Glenn with me, Daryl you take Carol. Glenn, Maggie, Carl you spread out and keep watch."

Carol blinked in surprise, lifting her head to glance at Rick when she heard her name. A bubble of some long forgotten emotion was building in her chest. Had her skills really improved to the point Rick was sending her out? She'd be with Daryl and so probably as safe as she could possibly be… but still! As she hopped quickly off the bike she realised what that emotion was, pride.

"What's up?" Daryl asked her quietly as they headed into the trees that lined the yards perimeter. Carol just shook her head and quickly reassembled her expression into something more suitable for a scouting mission.

They were just turning back toward the others after finding nothing when Daryl froze, his crossbow rising and Carol froze with him. She knew better than to ask out loud what he'd noticed and so watched him carefully, gauging his expression and the stiffness of his body as to whether they were dealing with a walker or a potential meal for dinner. His eyes narrowed and Carol's breath quickened. Definitely a walker. She quickly followed his line of sight and heard it a second later, a shuffling that was picking up pace. Her blade was already ready in her hand though she had no memory of drawing it. The walker appeared through the foliage, arms up as it saw them and came stumbling toward them. Its head snapped back as Daryl's arrow entered its forehead, dropping it instantly. Daryl moved forward warily to retrieve the arrow but before he could was forced to lunge ahead, knife ready, to stab a second walker that had appeared behind the first. He moved to face the third, ripping his knife free when Carol spotted another coming up slightly from the left. She didn't hesitate but moved to intercept. It moaned when it saw her, gnashing its teeth as it came on. She snapped out her foot as Daryl had taught her catching the walker's knee cap. It staggered and fell and she leapt forward before it could rise driving her dagger through its eye and into its brain. She pulled her knife free and drove it home again just for good measure. Sure it was dead (again) she stood up and scanned the area ahead of her quickly. Seeing nothing moving she turned to look for Daryl. He had his crossbow in front of him, swiftly pulling back to string to load another arrow. His last kill had torn his dagger from his hand and now a walker was approaching his unprotected back.

"Daryl!" Carol cried a warning. Her hand rose without her telling it to and raising the knife she threw it with all her strength thinking of nothing but perhaps distracting the walker enough to give Daryl the couple of seconds he needed.

Crossbow loaded Daryl spun to unload the arrow into the walker's brain but he never fired it. Surprised he stared as the walker crumpled to the ground, Carol's dagger imbedded firmly in its head. The clearing once again descended into silence as they both looked at the walker. Carol wasn't sure who was more surprised, her or Daryl.

Daryl glanced around at her, cocking an eyebrow. "You've been lettin me teach ya how to fight all this time n ya never mentioned ya could do that?"

"I can't do that," Carol protested. "It was a fluke."

"Ya didn't mean to do that? Ya didn want that ta happen?"

"I might have _wanted_ it to happen, doesn't mean I thought it _would_. It was a lucky shot; I would have been happy with just distracting it."

Daryl stepped forward and pulled her knife free of the walker's skull. "Do it again," he commanded handing her the knife and pointing at a nearby tree. "Hit the trunk."

Carol sighed, "I can't."

Daryl folded his arms and waited and Carol sighed again, turning to face the tree. She lifted her arm and threw the knife forward. She had the strength but the dagger clattered side on to the trunk and fell harmlessly to the ground.

"Told you."

Daryl retrieved the dagger and handed it back to her. "Again."

"Why?"

"Close ya eyes," Daryl told her. "Just close em," he snapped exasperated when she hesitated. Obediently she complied. "Now, picture tha scene again in ya head. Remember tha weight a tha knife and when during ya throw ya released it. Hold all that in ya head, open ya eyes and hit tha fuckin tree."

Carol took a breath, trying to recreate the scene in her mind. Daryl hunched over his crossbow, loading it, the walker coming up behind. Her eyes opened and she raised her arm. The dagger felt good as it left her hand and she stared, her mouth open, as her blade hit the tree with a satisfying thunk and stuck there.

Daryl crossed his arms again looking at the dagger sticking out of the tree with a self-satisfied smirk on his face. "Now _that_ is something we can work with."


	2. Chapter 2

Thank you to everyone who is reading/reviewing. I LOVE hearing your thoughts and feedback! First fic in a while and first Walking Dead one so I hope I can do it justice. My apologies if I get any info/lingo wrong. I'll do my best to get it right!

Oh..and cause I forgot in the first chap. I obviously own nothing. All credit to the writers and creators of the walking dead!

* * *

He made her throw the knife five more times. She missed, hit and missed again before striking two in quick succession.

"Three outa five aint bad," Daryl said as she strode forward again to pull the knife free.

"Careful Daryl, that sounded awful close to a compliment," Carol replied a happy grin on her face. She was proud of herself he realised. That was good.

"Yeah, not yet. Hit five outa five n we'll talk." He smirked and slung his crossbow over his back. "C'mon, better get back."

They moved into the house as darkness was falling, all too exhausted for more than a few brief whispered conversations. While the others lugged their supplies and belongings in from the vehicles Carol and Lori cleaned the kitchen enough to be able to cook a quick meal in somewhat sanitary conditions. Tomorrow she'd begin decontaminating as best she could Carol thought glancing around. Once all the dust and dirt that had accumulated during the owners' absence had been removed they'd be comfortable here she was sure.

"Go lie down Lori," Carol told her friend taking a bowl gently from her hands. Lori was pale, dark shadows beneath her eyes. But then, they all looked like that. It was the other woman's constant sighing as she worked that was getting on Carol's nerves. She'd have dinner prepared faster without the mother Grimes underfoot.

"I can help," Lori said half-heartedly and Carol smiled, patting her arm.

"I know, go on. I'll bring some food in to you. I believe you, Rick and Carl are in the main bedroom."

Lori smiled gratefully and left the kitchen without a backwards glance.

...

She hummed when she worked. He'd noticed it before. No songs that he recognised, if they were even songs, but somewhat soothing all the same. He didn't think she even noticed that she did it. She glanced over her shoulder and saw him standing there, a smile breaking over her features. She always looked so damn happy to see him; he'd never had someone look at him like that before.

"Dinner will be ready soon," Carol said turning back to her work. She was the only one doing it and she thought he'd come to _hurry_ her up?

"Where's Lori? Thought she was meant to be helpin?"

"I sent her to go lie down, she was tired," Carol answered calmly.

Daryl snorted. "We're all fuckin tired, haven' seen her doin nothin to tire her out anyways."

"She's pregnant Daryl."

"Yeah, pregnant. Not disabled."

Carol chuckled at that but didn't answer.

"I chucked ya stuff in tha study," Daryl said leaning against the door frame. "Thought ya might want some space while we got it."

Surprised at his thoughtfulness Carol smiled again, she put her hand on his arm as she passed him, "Thank you."

"Welcome," he grumbled. Uncomfortable at her display of gratefulness he turned and left the kitchen. Behind him he heard her laugh quietly and then begin to hum again as she continued with her task. Crazy woman. In the living room half the group were sprawled out on the couches and floor, not speaking. He figured they'd have enough energy to shovel in the food Carol brought them before shuffling off to whatever space they'd claimed to bed down in. Behind him he could hear Carol moving around the kitchen. This was one of her strengths. She didn't shut down when she was tired. She'd been out scavenging cars, scouting the woods, killing walkers and now she was cooking dinner while the rest of the lazy buggers sat around and let her.

"See if Carol wants a hand," he muttered digging his toe into Beth's side as he passed. The young girl jumped in surprise that he'd addressed her at all and scrambled to her feet as he continued out the front of the house to take watch.

...

"Here, I brought you some dinner," Carol said handing him a plate and sitting down beside him on the railing. "It's not much I'm afraid but it's better than nothing."

"Thanks," he mumbled and tucked into the food with his fingers.

Carol sat beside him, huddling in her jacket and wrapping her arms around her middle for warmth. She didn't say anything and neither did he. They were comfortable like this, didn't need words to fill a silence, just the company.

"You should get some rest," Daryl said at last as he finished and she took the plate back from him.

"Nah, can't sleep just yet," Carol answered, resting the plate on her knees and continuing to sit there.

Daryl shrugged and didn't push it.

"Daryl," Carol began hesitantly. "I never thanked you for saving my life, not properly anyway."

Daryl stiffened, shifting uncomfortably, "I didn'-"

"No, you did. And not just from the walkers' from everything. When Sophia… I wouldn't have made it if you hadn't been there Daryl, I wouldn't. You were there for me when I needed someone the most and I will never forget that. I just wanted you to know."

Daryl was chewing on the side of his thumb nail, studiously avoiding her gaze. He stood up, still without looking at her. His hand hovered hesitantly near her shoulder before he awkwardly patted it twice and walked away.

Carol stayed where she was a moment longer. She didn't regret saying what she had to Daryl, despite making him uncomfortable. They didn't usually talk like that to each other but she wanted him, _needed_ him, to know how grateful she was to him. He'd avoid her for a few days she expected but then they'd go back to normal and forget she'd ever said anything. She stood up and stretched out her sore back muscles before quietly slipping back into the house.

It was strange sleeping in the room alone and it took Carol a long time to settle. She'd become so used to sleeping on the ground or squished in a car dependent on the weather but it was always with Daryl's warmth at her back. It was the first time in weeks that he hadn't been comfortingly, reassuringly close and she tossed and turned on the sofa for hours before finally settling into an uneasy sleep.

"Carol," a voice hissed and she jerked awake immediately, blearily reaching under her pillow for her knife.

"What's the matter?" she muttered squinting in the dim light at the figure leaning over her. "Is it walkers?"

"Time for practice," Daryl said straightening up. "Come on."

Carol's head fell back to the pillow as she fought a groan. By the time she pushed back the covers and got to her feet Daryl had left the room. She quickly dressed and rubbing sleep from her eyes stepped out into the hall.

"Shouldn't we tell someone where we're going?" she asked following him out of the house.

"Nah, told Rick last night I was goin huntin in the mornin and takin ya with," Daryl said dismissively over his shoulder.

Carol shadowed him silently as they made their way toward the trees. She wondered if he'd told Rick he was taking her out before or after her little speech. She was just surprised he was speaking to her at all; she had been bracing herself for a few days of icy silence. She kept her lips firmly together as she followed him, not willing to jinx her good fortune at such quick forgiveness. Her eyes rose to the brilliant colours of the sun rising and she smiled. It was a beautiful morning.

"I brought breakfast," Daryl said half turning to her as he held out the measly offering he'd pillaged from their dwindling supplies. His eyes fell on her face and held there. Her skin seemed soft and golden in the light of the sunrise, her eyes brighter and sparkling a sharper blue as she looked at the horizon, a gentle smile on her face. Her eyes flicked back to his, her smile remaining in place as she reached out to accept the food. Her smile wavered and Daryl snapped back to himself realising that his feet had stopped moving as he stood before her. It was as though for a second he'd forgotten everything that had happened to both of them, forgotten everything he had lived through, survived through. For those few brief moments there had been no fear, no death, no hunger, no confusion…just her smile in the sunrise. He was slipping and he knew it. Merle would be having a field day if he was here, kicking his ass for being such a pussy. But then he wouldn't be standing here if Merle was with them and she _definitely_ wouldn't be standing here with a look that he'd never seen before joining this group. A look of complete and utter trust. He spun away from her and without another word strode into the trees, leaving it to her to follow. She was dangerous, he knew that. She brought something out in him that he hadn't even known he had, hell they all did, but with her it was different, easy. He should've kicked her off the bike weeks ago, should have left her behind this morning but it was so damn easy to just be with her. He realised he _wanted_ to spend time with her. To be a friend to her and to somehow try and be someone that she deserved. Someone Merle had definitely not wanted him to be. Fuck Merle, Daryl thought savagely. The bastard had left him; he could've come back to the group after freeing himself in Atlanta. He could've come back for him but he hadn't and Daryl was damned if he was going to keep feeling guilty for losing his good-for-nothing brother. No, Merle was gone but Carol, she was right here walking along almost silently behind him. That was why he taught her to fight, that was why he had brought her out this morning even though her words from the night before had awakened every instinct in his body telling him to get as far from her as possible. Because louder than all of that was the fear that he tried to refuse he even felt. The fear that one day she too would be gone.

…

Her shoulder was aching as she accepted the water bottle with a small smile of thanks. The sun was high overhead now and the tree before her was littered with cuts and chips. She rubbed at her shoulder absently, wondering how long he was going to keep this going. He had to be bored watching her throw the knife again and again at the tree trunk. But his expression never betrayed anything other than concentration as every now and then he'd correct her hold or her stance or change the target she was aiming for. Mostly he just stood and watched in silence.

"Ya gettin better," he remarked now, drumming his fingers on the top of his crossbow which stood against his leg point down in the dirt.

She didn't answer, just surveyed her marks on the tree as she flexed her fingers. Her right hand was beginning to cramp and she kneaded it with her left thumb as she went to retrieve the knife for what felt like the thousandth time.

Daryl's low whistle brought her attention back to him. She ripped the knife from the tree and held it ready when she saw his expression. She sidled back to his side as he held the crossbow ready.

"How many do you think?" she murmured, her eyes darting all around the clearing, searching for whatever it was that had alerted Daryl.

"One or two," Daryl muttered, jerking his chin toward the far side of the clearing.

"Shouldn't we just go back?" Carol whispered. "What if there are more coming?"

"Not yet." Daryl's keen eyes were fixed across the clearing and Carol gritted her teeth, biting back her protest, and turned to face the same direction. Within seconds she could hear the sounds of a walker lurching closer, she glimpsed it through the foliage, heard it pick up pace as it saw them… or smelt them. It had once been a woman but her face was so torn and rotten it was impossible to tell her age. Her dress was dirty and ripped, flapping around skinny legs as she tottered towards them snarls ripping from her throat and her teeth clacking as she snapped at them. Daryl lowered his crossbow.

"Alright, here we go," Daryl said indicating the walker stumbling toward them. "Live target…so ta speak."

Carol shook her head quickly, "No Daryl, I can't."

"Course ya can," Daryl snorted dismissively. "I aint been waistin my time out here so ya can throw knives at trees all day. Now come on, take it out."

Carol took a steadying breath and sized up the throw. The knife hit the walker hilt first, splitting the rotting skin of its forehead. Carol's hand dropped in defeat. "I'm sorry," she whispered. She waited for Daryl to shoot it with an arrow but he didn't raise his crossbow.

"Again," he said shortly holding out his own knife to her. When she stared at him nonplussed he rolled his eyes. "Nothing wrong with ya aim, ya just weighted the throw wrong. _Again_." He shoved the knife toward her on emphasis. She took it, squaring her shoulders as she turned to face the walker that was drawing closer. His knife was heavier than hers as she hefted it in her hand. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Daryl sling his crossbow over his shoulder. Was he truly that confident she could do it? Carol focused on the walker, ignoring everything else around her. She wanted to hit this walker. She wanted to prove to herself she could do it. More than that, she wanted to show _him_ she could do it. She didn't want to disappoint him. She took a steadying breath and threw Daryl's knife. It was with immense satisfaction that she saw the blade sink deep into the rotting skull dropping the walker to the leaf strewn ground.

"I did it," Carol laughed, bouncing on the spot as she wrapped her arms around her middle, a gleeful smile on her face.

"Told ya," Daryl said clapping her on the back.


	3. Chapter 3

Hello everyone - this chapter might be a bit ho hum for some but more action is on the way! I promise :P as always I love you thoughts and feedback :) Thank you so much for reading xx

* * *

"Daryl," Rick called beckoning for the other man to follow him as he disappeared back into the house without waiting for a response.

Daryl trudged up the steps after him and Carol followed silently. Her body was still humming with the thrill of successfully putting down the walker with the knife. Admittedly it had taken her two goes but it was still something she would never have been able to do before. Her eyes fell on Daryl's back as he walked through the door. It was something she would never have been able to do without him. Her eyes remained on him as she followed him inside the house, she would never stop owing him. She chuckled quietly. If someone had told her a few months ago that she, Carol Peletier, would come to rely on Daryl Dixon and that he would become her closest friend, she would have checked them for fever certain they were delirious.

Daryl glanced around at her raising an eyebrow as he heard her chuckle. She just shook her head and waved him on. Still confused but shrugging it off he strode into the kitchen where Glenn, T-Dog, Maggie and Rick were leaning over a map spread over the table.

"Glenn found this upstairs," Rick said by way of explanation. "There's a town clearly marked not far from here. We're getting low on supplies; I think we should check it out."

"I'll go in the mornin," Daryl said gruffly squinting at the map. "Wont take but a day for me to scope it out."

Carol bit her lip, why did he always have to do that? Rick had said 'we' but Daryl seemed only to hear 'you'. Yes, he might be the most capable but that didn't mean he had to do _everything_ alone. It was like he was still trying to prove himself worthy to them.

Rick looked up but his eyes fell past Daryl and onto Carol's expression which she wasn't quite quick enough to change. She knew he'd seen judgement in her eyes when she saw him frown slightly and his jaw lock.

She'd been hard on him in the beginning, when they'd run from the farm. But she had been drowning in grief and despair and she hadn't truly meant it, well…not all of it. But since then she'd come to see again that Rick truly did the best he could for them. He was their leader, he kept them going, gave them direction, and she was grateful for it – for him.

No, she wasn't judging him now at all. She was worried. She didn't want Daryl going off by himself. He did it all the time into the woods to hunt but that was different. He wasn't going to a town that could be overrun by walkers or perhaps by people who weren't keen to share dwindling resources. People like Randall's group.

She looked at Daryl. His back was to her as he leaned on the table and looked over the map. Her gaze trailed to his strong arms braced on the table. The thought that Daryl might leave and never come back terrified her. Not that she would ever say that out loud. Every time he went to hunt her stomach was a twist of knots until she saw him safe and whole striding back to the group. Her anxiety when he left was getting worse every time. She linked her hands tightly behind her back; she needed to do something about that. She couldn't afford to become dependent on someone again. She needed to stand on her own, not rely on someone else. It wasn't fair to him or to herself if she fell apart every time he was out of sight.

"You should take Glenn or T-Dog," Rick told him and Carol breathed the slightest sigh of relief. It was only one other but at least he'd have someone to watch his back.

"I'll go," T-Dog said immediately and Daryl nodded. Carol noted the look that passed between them. To her knowledge Daryl and T-Dog hadn't been alone together since he'd dropped the key that left Merle handcuffed to the roof in Atlanta. She couldn't help wondering what Daryl thought of the man who had contributed to the loss of his brother for Daryl refused to talk about it. But there was no malice when he spoke to the big man and T-Dog had told her about how Daryl had saved his life on the highway. The day Sophia was lost. That again told Carol volumes about the type of man Daryl Dixon was. Had he changed somewhere along the way from where he'd started out or had he always been like that and she just hadn't noticed?

...

The next morning almost everyone rose with the dawn as Daryl and T-Dog made their last preparations to leave. Carol had already organised them supplies which T-Dog was stowing in his back pack. Carol left him to it and went out into the front yard where Daryl was doing a last check on his bike.

He looked up as she walked down the steps and came to meet her, wiping his hands on a dirty rag.

"Here," Carol said handing a hand gun to Daryl. "I know you know Carl took yours and though you're pretending you've forgotten about it I know you let him keep it."

Daryl chewed his lip, biting back his retort he reached out and took the gun. "Where'd you get this?"

"Borrowed it from Glenn," she said with a shrug. "You guys be careful, alright?"

"We probably wont be back till dark," Daryl said tucking the gun into the waistband of his jeans.

"I'll keep the porch light on," Carol smiled. Daryl smirked and began to turn away and it was all she could do not to reach out for him. If anyone would be alright out there, she told herself sternly it was Daryl. "Come back in one piece," she said before she could stop herself and he glanced back to look at her. "I mean it, you die out there and I'll kill you myself," she said more fiercely then she intended.

His eyes narrowed slightly and she was expecting him to scoff at her but he didn't as his expression shifted instead into a small smile.

"Wouldn't dare," he said with as close to a laugh as she'd heard in far too long a time. "See ya soon Carol."

A warmth spread through her when he said her name. He rarely – if ever – called her by it but she loved the sound of it in his southern drawl. Before she could dwell on it though he'd reached out to touch her cheek. His palm was callused and rough against the smooth skin of her cheek but his skin was warm and she could feel the strength in his hand at the brief contact. Her breath caught in her throat and she stared at him wide eyed at the unexpected intimacy of the gentle touch. It was only for a second before the reality of what he was doing seemed to touch him and he'd withdrawn his hand and strode away towards his bike without a backward glance.

Carol stood on the porch long after the sound of the bike had faded away. Her cheek felt warm like she could still feel the imprint of Daryl's hand. Her mind was numb. He'd never touched her like that before; in fact he barely touched anyone, period. She wasn't prepared for how much she'd enjoyed the contact, for how much she'd wanted it to continue far longer than it had. She shook her head to clear it.

"Get a grip of yourself girl," she muttered under her breath. Daryl was her friend and protector, allowing herself to feel anything more for him than that was foolish and problematic. No, best to put the brakes on that runaway train before it got away from her.

"Are you alright Carol?" Carl asked clambering up onto the porch beside her. "Your face is all red."

Carol pressed her palms to her cheeks, feeling the skin burn under them. "I'm fine," she told him firmly. "Just a bit warmer today than I've gotten used to." She turned to him when he raised his eyebrows looking sceptical.

"A good day to get the washing done!" she said cheerfully and Carl's eyebrows dropped, his eyes shifting from side to side as he tried to determine the best way to get himself out of this situation. "Go fetch anything of yours or your Mum and Dad's that needs washing. Then you can see if your Dad needs you for anything," Carol told him smiling as she saw the panic start to fade.

"Sure," he said quickly and scampered into the house ahead of her.

She set herself up in the yard behind the house using the large silver tub Maggie had come across during her pilfering of the shed. It was peaceful to sit there scrubbing the clothes. She tried not to think about anything and just enjoy the sunshine and the familiar repetitive work. She watched Beth and Carl poking around down the bottom of the garden and the small gardening shed that had been built next to it. She'd been meaning to have a look but Beth had been looking for something to do – that hadn't involved clothes washing – and Carol had figured that sussing out the state of the vegetable garden was a perfect job for the farm girl.

The pile of sopping clothes on Carol's right slowly grew and as she submerged the last few items in the tub Lori emerged from the house coming to sit on the bottom step near Carol.

"You should have woken me," Lori said her eyes falling on the pile of washing.

"You needed the sleep," Carol told her. "Besides I don't mind doing it. It keeps me busy." She smiled at the other woman who smiled back.

"I was up a little earlier," Lori said rubbing her stomach absently. "It was a bit of an unsettled night but I saw the boys getting ready." She locked Carol with keen eyes, "I saw you and Daryl."

Carol flushed and looked down at the clothes she was suddenly mercilessly scrubbing, "I don't know what you're talking about."

"You look like a tomato so I think you do," Lori laughed.

Carol sighed and sat back on her feet dropping the garment back in the water. "There's nothing happening Lori, we're friends that's all."

"I believe you," Lori said with a small smile. "But just because you're only friends doesn't mean that's all you both feel."

"Who feels what?" Maggie asked coming to plonk herself down beside Lori.

"Nobody feels anything," Carol said sternly, directing most of her annoyed frown at Lori. "Why don't you ladies do something useful and help me string something up to resemble a clothes line?"

"There's a roll of wire in the shed," Maggie said immediately. "We could string it up between them trees there." She pointed to two trees set several metres apart on the edge of the yard. The fence there had at some point in the recent past fallen apart as some of the wooden posts and railings rotted away. Most of the fence had tumbled down the leaf strewn bank that fell away from the level yard toward the forest.

"Perfect," Carol said returning to the tub. "You girls get that started and I'll just finish ringing these out."

She could hear Maggie and Lori chatting and Maggie's occasional laugh as they set about tying up the wire. Carol smiled to herself, she was glad for the young woman. She wasn't only good for Glenn; she was good for all of them. She was smart, brave and quite strong. But more than that she was cheerful and right now that was what many of them needed.

The afternoon was shattered by the sudden scream and Carol whirled around, her hand flying to the knife at her side, as she searched for the source of the sound. Lori was calling out to Maggie as she ran to the edge of the yard dropping the wire as she ran. Maggie was nowhere in sight and Carol's heart leapt to her throat as she ran across the yard.

"What happened?" Carol shouted to Lori who was still calling for Maggie. After Maggie's initial scream there had been nothing and Carol could feel her hands shaking.

"She was tying the wire and must have tripped," Lori said breathlessly. "She went so quick! Maggie? Can you hear me?"

Carol reached the point where Maggie had been standing and she held onto Lori's arm as she peered down the bank. The ground here was crumbling and unstable and she could see where the earth had fallen away beneath Maggie's foot. Carol tightened her hold on Lori's arm. The last thing she needed was for the pregnant woman to go tumbling after.

"Maggie?" Carol called. She could see the girl's form sprawled near the base of the bank.

She heard a groan and Maggie's body moved as she tried to lever herself into sitting position.

"Maggie," she called again. "Honey, are you alright?"

"Of all the stupid-" she heard Maggie hiss painfully. "Yeah," she called up a second later. "I'm alright I think; my ankle's pretty banged up though."

"Is it broken?" Lori called.

Maggie was silent for a moment. "No," she called up at last. "At least I don't think so. I don't think I can walk on it though."

"Just sit tight sweetheart, we'll come get you," Carol said. Relief was filling her and as her adrenaline and fear faded her hands began to shake more.

She could hear voices and running feet behind her and turned to see Rick, Glenn and Hershel converging on them. Beth and Carl had come up from the garden at some point and quickly she ushered them back away from the crumbling edge.

"What happened?" Rick demanded and she saw all three men had guns ready in their hands.

"The edge is unstable," Carol explained. "We were trying to hang a line and Maggie must have got too close to the edge and it gave out under her. She's alright but she's hurt her ankle, she can't walk."

"Maggie?" Glenn said hurrying forward and Carol rolled her eyes, catching the young man's arm before he could get too close.

"She doesn't need you and a ton of dirt landing on top of her," Carol warned him and Glenn nodded, moving forward more cautiously Hershel close behind him.

"You alright Maggie?" Glenn called down to her.

"I'm fine," Maggie called back, her voice strong. "More embarrassed then anythin else."

"How are we going to get her up?" Lori asked.

"We can take her around to the front," Glenn said. "Easier than trying to carry her back up the bank."

"That'd involve either going through the fence or all the way up to the road," Rick pointed out. "Quicker to just bring her straight back up."

"But the edge could give way again," Lori protested.

Rick ignored her moving closer to the edge as he examined it. "This part looks more stable," he said indicating a section about a metre to the left. "We can bring her up here." He retrieved the discarded wire and tied it around the tree throwing it over the edge to give them extra help getting up and down.

Carol kept the kids back from the edge as Rick and Glenn gingerly made their way down the crumbling slope to where Maggie sat. Glenn hugged Maggie as soon as he reached her while Rick examined her ankle grim faced. They had a brief conference, their quiet voices out of earshot of the eagerly watching audience. A decision seemed to have been made as Rick and Glenn got up and took Maggie's arms, raising her to balance precariously on one foot. Rick stood down hill of Maggie and now he crouched slightly and with Glenn's help they settled her over Rick's shoulders. His jaw was set as he turned to face the slope while Glenn followed behind ready to catch and steady them if Rick should slip.

As he neared the top Carol could see the sweat shining on his red face and the way his steps had slowed significantly.

"Nearly there Rick," she called encouragingly. He didn't lift his head but he suddenly gave a quick spurt of energy and with a few steps reaching the top. His foot landed and Carol gasped as she saw the dirt slip and his foot begin to slide back. As one she and Hershel reached forward to grab his arms and with Glenn pushing from below they got Rick and Maggie over the edge and onto solid ground. Rick collapsed to his knees and Hershel and Glenn eased Maggie off his shoulders onto the ground.

"Get him some water," Lori said to Carl as she knelt beside Rick who was gasping for breath.

"Thanks Rick," Maggie said through gritted teeth. She was clutching her ankle and white to the lips but she smiled weakly at Rick when he looked at her.

"You're welcome," Rick replied, his chest still heaving from the exertion. "I guess I'm almost glad we haven't had much food lately. If you weren't so light I never would have got you up there."

They laughed but Carol supposed it was more a release of tension than anything else.

"Come on, let's get you inside and look at that foot," Hershel said gently reaching for his daughter.

Maggie lifted her arms allowing her father and Glenn to raise her to her feet again. Supporting her between them so she didn't have to put weight on her left ankle they led her away towards the house with Beth hovering behind.

Rick got to his feet groaning and stretched out his back. "Maybe pick a less dangerous spot to hang the washing hey?" he said pointedly to Carol who nodded.

Carl arrived with a bottle of water which Rick accepted with a smile and a ruffle of the boy's hair. Rick put his hand on Carl's shoulder and the pair walked away. Lori watched after them with a pained expression on her face before turning back to the house.

Carol heaved out a sigh and went to unwrap the wire from the tree. At least the shaking in her hands was beginning to subside. As she slowly wound the wire in a loop around her arm Carol couldn't stop thinking about Maggie's accident. When the girl had suddenly screamed Carol's first instinct was to think a walker had somehow gotten hold of the girl. When she'd run toward where Maggie had disappeared from she'd had her knife in hand but what would she have done had a walker actually had hold of her? Would she have had the courage or confidence to throw the knife with Maggie in such proximity? She wasn't sure – that was something she and Daryl hadn't practiced, _couldn't_ practice. But waiting until she was close enough to stab the thing through the head may have been too late. It was all well and good to throw knives at trees and at single walkers when Daryl was at her side but it would be for nothing if in the moment it mattered she didn't have the courage to act.

* * *

Night fell and Carol settled herself in an arm chair in the front room which was as close as she could get to the front of the house to listen for the roar of the motorbike without actively being seen to be waiting for them. She was reading in the weak light of the lamp lit by the old generator Hershel had spent most of the past two days getting up and running. She had almost joined Glenn in his whoop of joy when Hershel had gotten the thing working realising she might actually have a working stove to cook on for a while.

She thumbed the corner of the page looking up at the window after reading the same sentence several times. She closed the book and set it on the table beside her. It was no use, she couldn't concentrate.

The others drifted aimlessly about the house, some – like herself – coming to settle in the front room as they waited.

At last, when the knot in her stomach was becoming unbearable, she heard the unmistakable roar of the motorbike and jumped to her feet.

She was first behind Rick onto the porch as Daryl brought the bike to a halt beside the cars. T-Dog climbed off behind him staggering slightly and looking distinctly relieved to be stationary. Carol smiled slightly in sympathy; Daryl's driving wasn't easy on first time passengers.

Daryl strode toward the porch where several of the group stood waiting. Carol's eyes roved over both him and T-Dog anxiously, heaving in a deep breath when she saw they both seemed intact.

As though sensing her scrutiny Daryl's eyes fell on her and when she smiled in welcome he nodded his head towards her.

Rick clapped them both on the shoulders as they passed him, heading toward the kitchen.

"How'd it go?" Glenn asked as they moved through the house.

"Easy," T-Dog replied.

In the kitchen Daryl shrugged out of his crossbow settling it on the bench as he turned to the table. Beth and Carl had been sitting there earlier and the table was littered with paper, pens and pencils pillaged from the study.

"What do you reckon?" Rick asked Daryl. "Will we be able to get anything from there?"

Daryl moved to the table and picked up a permanent marker, pushing the drawings aside as he leaned over the table.

"It aint that bad," Daryl said drawing lines on the wooden surface of the table with the permanent marker. Carol swallowed her squeak of protest. It didn't matter if he was drawing on the table – not really.

"There's a few walkers but nothin we can't handle. Now these are the spots we've got to hit here n here," he said jabbing at two separate points on his hand drawn map. "I reckon we put someone here. From that vantage point they can see a 360 of the area, stop any surprises comin down on us when we aint looking. Its all pretty open so we shouldn't hang around long. Two can grab tha fuel n two can gather food n clothes. We can be in n out in fifteen minutes easy." He straightened, throwing the marker down on the table and crossing his arms as he leant back against the counter watching Rick closely.

"So we need five of us to go?" Rick said studying Daryl's drawing.

"Yep," Daryl nodded. "Whoever is on look out will be by emselves, so it needs to be someone who can take care of himself. We'll need T-Dog's strength on the ground so I reckon Glenn goes up look out. That leaves you, me, T-Dog and Maggie, two groups to take the fuel and the food."

"Slight problem," Rick said running a hand through his hair. "Maggie's busted her ankle."

"Yer kiddin."

"Hershel doesn't think it's broken but she won't be on it for a few days. Can we do this with four?"

"Yeah but we shouldn't. Either we don't split up n take twice as long, have no eyes above us or we leave someone alone on the ground."

"Well its that or put it off for a few days until Maggie's up and about."

"I can do it," Carol said suddenly. She flushed slightly when four pair of eyes turned to stare at her in surprise. She set her jaw and met their gaze defiantly, "I'll come."


	4. Chapter 4

Hello my lovely readers. I am so so so sorry it has taken me so long to update! Life has been incredibly busy of late and I just haven't had the time. I promise I will do my best never to leave it this long again. Thank you all for your patience. As always I love to receive your thoughts and feedback. Obviously I own neither the walking dead nor the wonderful characters. xoxo

* * *

Daryl snorted, "Yer not goin anywhere."

Carol flushed but held her ground. "Of course I am," she said calmly. "You need five people to get this done properly and Maggie's out so why can't I take her place?"

"Yer not ready," Daryl said harshly before Rick could say anything.

Carol stared at him indignantly, hurt and bewildered by his reaction. He'd been training her, he'd shown enough confidence in her to let her take a walker out herself and now he was saying she wasn't ready?

"Well I think I am," Carol snapped back glaring at him. "You know perfectly well I can handle it Daryl Dixon. You've taught me what I need to know so why did you bother if you're not going to let me use it? If you're not going to let me contribute?"

"It's too dangerous," Daryl blurted before he could stop himself. He turned away, mortified by the almost pleading note in his voice, certain the others had noticed it. He'd taught her the basics so she could protect herself is she needed to, not so she could go about putting herself in dangerous situations! He wanted her able to protect herself if he wasn't around. But as long as he was able he would keep her safe, did she not realise that? Coming to town on a raid was out of the question. He couldn't do his job properly and keep an eye on her at the same time.

"Everywhere is dangerous," Carol was saying fiercely behind him. "That's what life is now."

He turned back to look at her, slightly surprised by her insistence. When had she gotten so determined?

"Daryl," Rick said cautiously. "We can't afford to wait a few days for Maggie. We need Carol and if she's willing I don't see the problem."

Daryl stared at Rick incredulously, the problem? The problem was it was _Carol_ and the list of reasons he had for not letting her go was endless. But the thought processes behind these reasons were something he couldn't articulate, even to himself.

"Fine," Daryl said coldly. "But ya do what I tell ya when I tell ya and ya don't leave my sight!"

Carol was wise enough to keep her mouth shut and merely nodded but he could see the triumph mingled with fear in her eyes though her face was impassive.

"Guess she's in your group then," T-Dog said and looked over at Rick. "'Spose that leaves you and me boss."

"Alright, T and I will go for the fuel. Daryl and Carol can make a run for food and clothes supplies with food of course the priority. Carol you probably have a better understand than anyone else what the group needs right now anyway."

Carol nodded again as Rick got up from the table.

"We'll leave first thing," he told them and left the kitchen.

Carol looked over at Daryl but he determinedly wouldn't meet her eyes and swept furiously from the room. She sighed and quietly followed him. Tomorrow was going to be a long day.

* * *

"Be safe," Lori said hugging Carol tightly.

Carol returned the hug, "You too. We'll be back before you know it." She let go of the other woman and smiled to the rest who had gathered on the porch to see them off. Walking towards the cars Daryl opened the door of the truck mutely, his jaw clenched and his eyes cold. Carol threw her bag in the back and silently climbed in knocking away Daryl's hand to close the door herself.

He came round to the driver's side and placed his crossbow on the seat between them as he settled himself behind the wheel.

She folded her arms and stared out the windscreen impassively as they followed the other three in the car in front. After fifteen minutes she couldn't do it anymore and angled her body to face him.

"What the hell is the matter with you?" she demanded.

"What are ya talking about?" he muttered.

"You haven't said a word to me since last night, you've barely looked at me and if you do its only to glare at me. What is your problem? Are you that mad I'm coming? Do you think I can't do this? That I'm going to get you killed because I shouldn't be here or something?"

"Of course not," he said scathingly though he wasn't sure if that was truth. It wasn't that she couldn't handle herself now, she was getting better, it was that he went into protective mode whenever she was near. He couldn't help it anymore, it just happened. But that protective mode could be dangerous on a run like this. He needed his wits about him and Carol had a habit of clouding them.

"So then what's wrong?"

He couldn't tell her that he was worried about her, that when he thought about the day ahead his stomach twisted into knots. The feeling was so unfamiliar to him and he didn't like it. He leant his elbow on the door and started biting his thumb nail as he stared at the road in front of them.

Carol sighed sinking back in her seat and folded her arms again when it became apparent he wasn't going to answer. "You could at least be civil to me then," she muttered sullenly. "It's going to be a long day otherwise."

Daryl was silent for a moment before at last he stopped biting his thumb and glanced at her. "We're gonna pull up in tha lot out back. If it's clear I go in first and ya follow me alright?"

"Alright," Carol said quickly relieved he was at least speaking again.

Her nerves were humming as they got closer to the town. She didn't realise she was perched forward on the edge of the seat until Daryl glanced at her and smirked.

"Sure ya wanna do this?" he asked.

"Bit late to change my mind now," she smiled nervously but sat back again and tried to appear calm. She wanted to help, she wanted to contribute, she could do this!

The town was quiet as they drove in. Daryl's eyes were immediately focused as they swept the surrounds, missing nothing.

They pulled up next to the other car and Daryl wound down the window.

"Looks good," Rick said. "You've got ten minutes before we meet back here. If anything happens you remember the fall back plan?"

"Course."

"Alright, good luck, look out for each other."

Carol leaned forward so she could see the others past Daryl. "We'll see you soon," she said and smiled again. More to disguise the way her lips were shaking than anything else. She clenched her hands in her lap and willed herself to calm. She had insisted on coming, she couldn't fall apart.

Daryl brought the truck around to the car park behind the store and turned off the engine. They both sat in silence for a moment as they scanned the lot. Everything seemed quiet.

"Let's go," Daryl said after a moment and they both tumbled out of the car.

Carol looked down at her hand and realised she had her gun in her hand. She hadn't even realised she'd picked it up. She felt better with it in her hand and quickly hurried after Daryl who had his crossbow to his shoulder.

He looked focused and deadly and Carol calmed further. She just felt safer when Daryl was with her, like he was a match for anything that would come against them, like nothing could harm her as long as he was there. She bit her lip and tried to focus. She could only imagine how awkward things would get if he knew what she thinking and she valued his friendship and company too much to jeopardise it.

They opened the door and Daryl stepped into the building, his crossbow preceding him. Carol followed her gun ready and her other hand resting on the belt around her waist where her knife hung. She wasn't the same woman she'd been when all this had started. She was stronger now, she was capable, and she would succeed.

"It looks clear," Daryl muttered. "5 minutes, let's go."

Carol nodded and tucked her gun back in the waistband of her jeans and hurried forward towards a trolley. They went down aisle after aisle taking everything they could. Daryl kept looking around so often he looked like he had a twitch.

"You finish grabbing food," Carol said softly. "I'll go check out the clothes."

"No, yer stayin with me," Daryl replied immediately.

"It'll be quicker if we separate," Carol hissed back. "I'll be just over there, never out of sight, okay?"

He clenched his jaw, clearly not happy, but nodded.

She grabbed another trolley and started chucking in all the warm clothes she could find. Jackets, jumpers, pants, scarves, gloves. Winter was on them and she knew it'd only get worse before it was over. She saw a couple of pairs of boots and chucked them in too. Glenn's were wearing out and Carl was growing so quickly he wouldn't be able to fit his much longer.

Daryl materialised at her side pushing the trolley laden with food with one hand and his crossbow in the other. "Time to go," he muttered.

"Okay," she said quickly rifling through the underwear section. She selected a couple of bras she thought would fit Maggie, Lori, Beth and herself and threw them on top of the pile. She saw Daryl flush slightly and look away and couldn't help smirking to herself. "Let's go," she whispered still smiling.

They hurried from the store back out into the lot which was still empty. They quickly began to transfer the contents of the trolley into the back of the truck. The lighter clothing that would blow away Carol grabbed and piled into the cab of the truck.

"Medical supplies!" Carol hissed smacking her forehead. "Did you see a section for medical supplies in there?"

"Yeah over on the far wall," Daryl answered without looking at her as he threw cans of food into the back. "Didn't look like there was much left."

"I have to have a look," she said and grabbed her bag.

"No," he said quickly and suddenly his strong hand was closed around her arm. "Yer not goin back in there, we gotta go."

"Two seconds," Carol said firmly. "Daryl, we gotta make sure there's nothing left we can use. You finish loading the truck I'll be right back."

Daryl hesitated but she pulled her arm free and began to run back towards the shop before he could protest further.

Inside she hurried to the far wall. Daryl was right, most of it had been picked clean, but there was still some pain killers, antiseptic spray, band aids and bandages which she shoved into her bag. Maybe there was a pharmacy in town where they might be able to find some antibiotics? She'd mention it to Daryl. She doubted he'd let them stop long enough to have a look though.

There was a whistle and a shout outside and Carol immediately ran for the door.

"Carol!" Daryl's voice shouted and she stepped out into the sunlight almost directly into the arms of a walker. She shrieked and staggered back. Her hand went to her knife before she even knew what she was doing and she drove it upwards into the thing's brain. It slumped immediately and almost dragged her knife from her hand but she clung on grimly, pulling it free of the skull. She looked around and stared in horror. The lot was full of walkers. At least twenty were between her and Daryl and more were entering from the street every second.

Now she was outside she realised the whistle and shout had been Glenn's warning. If she'd been with Daryl they could have driven away. But she'd gone back into the shop and now they were well and truly separated. Daryl was by the truck, his crossbow raised and firing. The ground around him was littered with corpses. She could see he was going to try and reach her but she also knew there were too many.

"Just go!" she shouted to him though she knew it would draw more walkers to her. "Just get out of here. I'll try and get out another way."

She knew he heard her because he was shaking his head even as he shot down another walker. He wasn't gaining ground.

"Just go!" she shouted and stumbled back away from the walkers that were nearly on her, back into the shop. She slammed the door closed and glanced around wildly. There was a low wooden bench against the wall to the left and she ran to it. Gritting her teeth she dragged it across the door. The door was shuddering under the weight of the walkers that were trying to get in.

She backed away from the door, running a shaking hand through her hair, as tears rose unbidden to her eyes.

Now what?


	5. Chapter 5

Hello my lovely readers. Again I can't thank enough everyone taking the time to read and review. It makes my day to open my emails and see all the notifications! :) I hope you continue to enjoy. - I don't own the walking dead or its characters -

* * *

Carol began to make her way back through the extensive shop. The back was blocked but maybe the doors leading to the main street were still clear. She could get out that way. The pounding on the shuddering door behind her echoed through the shop and she shivered, breaking into a run. She ran out of the end of an aisle and froze, her heart leaping to her throat, as she stared through the wide windows.

The street was full of walkers.

She went to take a step back but even as she did she heard the unmistakable sound of a door giving in. She spun around fearfully, the walkers weren't in sight yet but it wouldn't take them long to sniff her out. She glanced around wildly but there was no other exit, no other escape route. A nervous laugh broke through her numb lips. Death by walker was more than likely in the new world but when she'd pictured her death she hadn't quite pictured it like this. Daryl was right she hadn't been ready, she shouldn't be here. She adjusted her sweaty grip on her knife. At least she wouldn't have to face his wrath for disobeying him and running back into the building.

She could hear the walkers now, shuffling and snarling, drawing closer but another sound had caught her attention. She turned back to the front windows in time to see the walkers in the street pausing looking towards the source of the noise.

Hope flared in Carol's heart. It was an engine.

Her eyes flew to the corner as the rusty red truck appeared in the street scattering the gathering walkers on its bonnet. She couldn't help the smile springing to her lips. Daryl.

She ran to the door heedless of the walkers in the street, they were distracted by the truck anyway. When she reached the door she didn't even try to open it as her eyes fell on the chain and padlock. She began to look around searching for something she could use to perhaps break the window but all her eyes saw were three walkers appear at the end of the nearest aisle. They'd seen her, or smelt her, it made little difference, they were coming.

She looked around at the roar of an engine just in time to run sideways away from what was about to be the point of impact. She covered her head with her hands as glass sprayed everywhere as Daryl drove the truck right into the building.

Daryl was pushing his way out of the truck almost before it had stopped his crossbow up and firing at the walker who had gotten close to Carol. She looked up from where she had fallen, her wide eyes staring at the truck driven halfway through the now non-existent glass window. Aside from a shallow cut on her hand she was miraculously unhurt. He reached out to take her other hand and wrenched her to her feet.

"Thanks," she gasped and winced inwardly when she saw his face. Oh yeah, he was pissed.

"Let's go," he said simply and dragged her back to the truck taking out the walker who had managed to clamber past the truck, ripping its rotten body on the jagged glass.

"Get in," he snarled shoving her towards the truck. She paused only to pull his arrow from the walker's skull. He didn't have many left and she didn't want him wasting one because of her.

She pulled the truck door closed and felt calmer. There was metal again between her and the walkers and Daryl was beside her. As soon as the door closed Daryl threw the truck into reverse and with a wild lurch drove out of the shop, taking out the half a dozen walkers that had gathered at the tail end of the truck.

Carol surreptitiously patted the door of the truck, silently thanking the tough old truck. Daryl shifted it into gear and took off down the street but they'd barely gone metres before Carol was shouting for Daryl to stop.

"What?"

"Glenn!" Carol shouted and pointed across him.

Daryl craned his neck to look up at the building and swore as he slammed on the brakes. Walkers were streaming into the warehouse through the gaping front doors and Glenn was clambering frantically back out onto the roof.

"Drive to the end of the building," Carol said suddenly. "Just do it!" she added when he looked at her in confusion.

To his credit Daryl didn't waste time with questions.

"There," Carol said pointing up. "See the planks on the roof of the warehouse next to it. We can put one across for Glenn to cross. He can get out through that warehouse to the street and we're home free."

"Wait," Daryl said reaching out to grab her arm as Carol made to open her door. "You're not doing it."

"Course I am," Carol said swiftly. "We need to keep the exit clear and we need you and your crossbow for that. I can't cover the exit Daryl, but I can go up there and get Glenn."

She could see the indecision in his face. There was no easy option; whichever way they went they'd both be in danger.

We should be used to that by now, Carol thought grimly watching his face. "I can do it," she said earnestly and put her hand over his.

Jaw locked and eyes furious Daryl nodded once and pulled his hand back. He moved the truck into the shadow of the second warehouse, close to the door, ready to escape.

"Run," he muttered to Carol and opened his own door.

Carol didn't hesitate and practically fell out her door in her haste. She didn't look back as she ran into the shadow of the warehouse. A wooden stair was against the far wall and she saw it led to an office above the factory floor. It was the only way up that she could see and she ran towards it.

In the office was another door that led to the stair to the roof. Within minutes she was out in the fresh air, the sunlight making her squint.

"Glenn!" she shouted across the gap and she saw Glenn spin at the sound of her voice, his jaw dropping when he saw her.

She turned to the pile of planks she'd seen from the street only now did it occur to her that they might be too short to span the gap or too weak to support Glenn's weight. She tested one as best she could and it seemed solid enough. She manoeuvred it to the edge and looked across the gap. The plank was heavier than she had expected. How was she going to get it across?

"Stand it up," Glenn called who had seen what she was trying to do. "Try and stand it up and let it fall across."

She braced it against the small lip at the edge of the roof. The wind threatened to topple it backwards but gritting her teeth Carol forced it straight up into the air and pushed it across the gap. It bounced against the edge of the opposite roof and would have fallen but Glenn had lunged forward to steady it.

Carol braced her weight against the end on her side and nodded to him. "Careful," she called unnecessarily.

She watched, barely breathing, as Glenn clambered up onto it. He was confident and sure footed and moved across the plank quickly as though fearful it would break. Carol had the same fear as she tried to hold the plank steady, her heart thundering in her chest as it creaked beneath the boy's weight. But thankfully, within moments, he was jumping down onto the roof beside her.

"Thanks Carol," Glenn grinned squeezing her shoulder.

"Let's get out of here," she answered patting his hand with her shaking one.

There was a crash and they both glanced around to see a walker appear on the roof that Glenn had just left.

"This way," Carol said leading him back to the stair.

They ran down the stairs into the office and Carol stopped short a scream rising to her throat as she stumbled back into Glenn. A walker barred her way, dressed in the dark blue overalls the man had died in.

"Where did it come from?" Carol gasped as it turned its rotting face towards them.

"Doesn't matter," Glenn said grabbing her hand. "This way." He dragged her across the office to another door that was ajar and charged through it.

So that was where it came from. Several walkers in identical overalls turned to them as they entered the room.

Glenn dropped her hand and pulled out his gun and Carol did the same. There was another office across from them and Carol could see wooden steps leading down to a second warehouse floor that was unconnected to the first where Daryl would be waiting. But it was the only way down.

"This way," Carol said leading the way this time and she raced across the small room. Raising her gun she fired point blank range into the face of the walker that lunged for her and reached the door. Thankfully it wasn't locked and she stumbled through it pulling Glenn after her and slamming the door. She backed away from it, her eyes locked on the walkers that were now beating on the glass windows trying to get in. She just kept going from one hopeless situation to another, but at least this time she wasn't alone.

Glenn was at the opposite door but it was thick wood and locked and no matter what Glenn did it wouldn't budge.

"Shoot the lock?" Carol suggested moving to his side but Glenn shook his head.

"It's bolted from the other side."

"What do we do?"

Glenn's eyes drifted to the windows that overlooked the warehouse floor. "We jump."

Carol looked back to the walkers and saw with a chill that the glass was already cracking under the pressure. "Alright," she said swiftly and grabbed the office chair hoisting it with all her might at the window overlooking the warehouse. It smashed through the glass as Carol shielded her head.

Glenn was staring at her wide eyed as she straightened. "Nice," he murmured and moved to the broken window. "Doesn't look too far to drop," he said frowning slightly. "I'll go first." He gingerly moved out onto the tiny ledge that could only fit the toes of his boots being careful to avoid the jagged edges of glass still in the frame. He edged sideways slightly, staying in position only by his toes and the tips of his fingers.

"Move along so you don't jump onto the worst of the glass," he called back to her and as she nodded he let go. She bit her lip as he hit the floor but he rolled to absorb the worst of the impact and wincing climbed to his feet.

"It's not so bad," he called up to her his voice breathless and Carol figured he'd had the wind knocked out of him. "Come on."

Carol glanced back over her shoulder. The glass windows of the office wouldn't last much longer beneath the flailing limbs of the walkers trying to get in. Even as she watched the cracks began to spread at an alarming rate. She stepped up to the window but before she could manoeuvre her way through there was a smashing sound behind her. She looked around with a gasp to see two of the walkers tumble into the room with the broken glass of the windows.

She didn't hesitate but turned and leaped through the broken window. She felt a faint stinging in her leg but ignored it as she fell the factory floor below. Her legs crumbled as she hit and she rolled to try and absorb some of the impact as Glenn had done. She lay on the ground gasping for breath, every part of her was aching but it was the pain building and throbbing in her leg that was sapping the strength from her limbs.

"Carol!" Glenn cried running to her side. "Are you alright?"

"Fine," Carol gasped.

"You're bleeding," Glenn said who looked extremely pale.

But Carol's eyes were on the window above her where she had jumped. Blood stained one of the sharp spikes of glass and several walkers had already been attracted to it. It wouldn't take long for them to come tumbling down into the room below.

"Quickly," she gasped holding out her hands to Glenn. "We need to get out of here."

Glenn pulled her up and she cried out as the movement pulled at the wound in her leg. She could feel the wetness of blood running down her leg but she refused to look.

Glenn helped her hop to the nearby door and they swiftly moved through it slamming it behind them. Carol's head was swimming and Glenn lowered her to the ground, settling her with her back against the wall.

"I just need to rest for a minute," Carol murmured, closing her eyes. She felt strangely weightless, but not in a good way.

"You're losing a lot of blood," Glenn said nervously.

"There's a bandage in my bag," Carol said without opening her eyes. "Just wrap it up; Hershel can look at it when we get back."

She gasped in pain as Glenn got to work. She bit her lip and tried to keep quiet but couldn't keep back a cry of pain as he pulled it tight.

"Sorry," Glenn said apologetically.

Carol shook her head. "Needs to be tight," she gasped through gritted teeth. "Is there a way out?"

"Uh, no," Glenn said nervously. "Not if you can't run."

"I can run," Carol muttered and opened her eyes. She went to pull herself to her feet but fell back almost at once.

"Yeah, you're a regular Usain Bolt," Glenn smirked. "Just sit tight, we're safe enough in here."

Carol didn't need any persuasion. She settled her head back against the wall and closed her eyes again. She didn't know how much time had passed before she felt Glenn crouch down at her side.

"Carol?" his hand was on her shoulder and shook her slightly.

"What?" she murmured.

"You're bleeding through the bandage," he said worriedly. "What do you want me to do?"

"Put something else around it," she said blearily. "Then use my belt, tie it around my thigh above the wound, tight as you can."

She hissed in pain as Glenn wrapped a second bandage around the first. "It's alright," he said anxiously. "Just breathe, you just gotta breathe."

"I am breathing you idiot," Carol snapped, the pain making her temper flare. "If I wasn't breathing, I'd be dead!"

She opened her eyes but she was having trouble focusing. Glenn's hands were close to her waist but he seemed to be hesitating. She rolled her eyes, "Just do it!"

His jaw clenched Glenn's hands fumbled at her belt. At last he got it loose and began to bind it around her thigh, pulling it tight.

Her eyes dropped to her leg and she saw the blood was already beginning to seep through the second bandage and had stained the ground beneath her. "We need to get out of here," she said weakly. "I need to get to Hershel."

"Just hang in there," Glenn said patting her shoulder. "It's gonna be alright, I promise."


	6. Chapter 6

Daryl's crossbow was fitted against his shoulder as he stalked through the dim interior of the warehouse. He'd heard her scream first and without even stopping to think about it he'd abandoned the entrance and charged inside. He'd then heard the sound of breaking glass somewhere above him and he'd climbed the rickety, wooden stairs. Several walkers in blue overalls littered the ground behind him but there was still no sign of Carol and Glenn.

He came to a stop outside the second office and saw four walkers inside the room gathered around the opposite window. An arrow was already fitted to the crossbow as he focused and in quick succession took the walkers out. He only had three arrows left and so quickly clambered through the window to retrieve the rest. He'd have to make some more when they got back to the house.

He placed his boot on the skull of one of the walkers and pulled his arrow free. It was then he raised his eyes and saw what had been holding the walkers attention.

A shard of glass in the shattered window was stained crimson with blood.

A cold weight settled in the pit of his stomach as he tried to shut down his suddenly spinning thoughts. There was no point to speculation and distraction would get him killed. He straightened, stepping closer to the window and looking out. He needed to find her _now_.

Glass littered the ground below and more blood stained the cement floor. He spotted the office chair and theorised either Glenn or Carol had thrown it through the office window in an effort to escape. Two walkers were on their knees amongst the glass and he could tell by the tears on their bodies that they'd fallen through the broken window in their attempt to reach their prey. The blood on the ground had attracted them and Daryl's sharp eyes spotted the drops that lead away to the left.

Daryl's jaw tightened but he was filled with grim satisfaction. Finally, a trail he could follow!

He stood framed in the broken window as he looked down on the walkers and once again raised his crossbow.

Once the walkers were down Daryl moved carefully out the window and jumped to the ground below. His knees bent to absorb the impact and he rolled, heedless of the glass, before ending up crouched on the balls of his feet. He shook out his jacket and vest as he stood up to ensure no pieces of glass were stuck in the folds of material.

He retrieved his arrows before his eyes once more went to the trail of blood. It lead to a door in the opposing wall and crossbow raised Daryl made his way towards it. He cautiously tried the handle but the door was locked. Abandoning all caution Daryl beat his fist against the door in frustration.

"Carol? Glenn? Ya in there?" he shouted.

"Daryl!" a voice called back and Daryl recognised Glenn. He didn't miss the note of panic in the boy's voice and the pit in Daryl's stomach sank further.

The door was hastily unlocked and when the door whipped open Daryl's eyes roved over Glenn. He seemed unhurt though pale and his hands and arms were covered in blood.

Daryl swallowed hard, if Glenn wasn't hurt then there was only one other person the blood could belong to.

"Where is she?" Daryl demanded shoving past the younger man.

"There," Glenn said hoarsely even as Daryl's eyes fell on her.

She sat with her back against the wall, her head fallen forward so that her chin rested on her chest. Her legs were stretched out in front of her and his eyes fell to the blood stained bandage and belt acting as a tourniquet.

"The walkers got into the room and she had to jump quickly," Glenn explained from behind him. "She cut it on the glass."

Daryl didn't answer, he'd already surmised as much for himself.

He moved swiftly to her and crouched at her side. Stealing himself he reached out to touch her shoulder, his fingers shifting to her cheek when she didn't stir. He lifted her head so he could see her face clearly. She was white to the lips and her skin was cold and clammy. Her eyes were closed but as he lifted her face to his her eyes fluttered open. He could see the effort it took her to try and focus and he wasn't sure if she actually managed it. But she seemed to sense who it was in front of her and a weak smile spread across her face.

"Took your time," she muttered hoarsely, struggling with the words.

"Can't leave you alone for two seconds can I?" he smirked but though his tone was light he couldn't lighten his expression.

"Sorry," she sighed and her eyes closed again.

"Carol?" He lifted his other hand to cup her face between them but she didn't respond, to either his voice or his touch.

"We need to get her to Hershel," Glenn said anxiously.

"Ya think I don't know that?" Daryl snarled over his shoulder. He reached down to where he'd dropped his crossbow on the ground. "Take this," he snapped at Glenn who caught the tossed crossbow in surprise.

Careful of her wound Daryl swept Carol up easily into his arms. She seemed even smaller and lighter than she usually did, like she was already beginning to fade away from him. He was alarmed at the amount of blood there was, she couldn't afford to be losing this much. He looked down into her face. If he could ignore the pallor of her skin and the blood soaking her she could have been sleeping.

Subconsciously he held her closer against his chest, as though some of his warmth could transfer to her and keep her going just that bit longer. Just long enough for him to get her help.

"We stop fer nothing," Daryl snapped to Glenn who was silently watching his hands gripping the crossbow so tightly his knuckles were turning white. "Let's go."

The run back through the warehouse was mercifully short and unimpeded and when they reached the door Daryl sighed with relief to see the truck was still accessible. His hands full with Carol he left it to Glenn to take out the walkers close to the truck.

It was as he reached the cab of the truck that he realised he wasn't going to let her go.

"You drive," he said to Glenn who had opened the passenger door for him. With Carol held safely in his arms he eased into the truck settling her as gently as he could across his lap, her head coming to rest against his shoulder and her hands limply in her lap. She'd moaned once in pain as he lifted her into the truck and the sound was like a shard of ice into his heart.

"Jacket," he muttered to Glenn as he got in behind the wheel.

"What?"

Daryl just held out his hand and Glenn quickly shrugged out of his jacket, handing it over before starting the engine.

Daryl pressed the jacket to Carol's wound flinching when she moaned again but she didn't open her eyes. He didn't know where to look. He couldn't look at her face or the wound in her leg and so he just stared out the windscreen in front of him. This couldn't be happening. He'd sworn to himself he'd protect her, keep her safe and here she was bleeding to death in his arms.

He bit the inside of his cheek, his stomach swirling, and realised he was shaking.

This couldn't be the end for her surely? This woman who had survived her abusive husband, who had somehow survived the loss of her daughter, this woman who taken care of the group, who had learned to fight, who had become a contributor rather than a burden, this woman who had found her strength. Surely she wouldn't be undone by a shard of glass? She couldn't.

"She saved me you know," Glenn muttered after a few moments silence as he raced the truck down the street, the engine roaring. "I wouldn't have got out of there if she hadn't come to help me."

Daryl just nodded curtly. Dying trying to help someone else, now that sounded more like Carol. He bit the inside of his cheek harder and tasted blood. She _wasn't_ dying.

Rick and T-Dog were waiting in the designated place and both looked worried as the truck slowed beside them.

"You're lat-" Rick began but stopped when he saw Glenn's expression.

Glenn slowed the truck but it didn't completely stop.

"Carol's hurt," he said swiftly. "Cut not bit," he added seeing Rick's mouth begin to open and heading off the inquiry. "We've got to get her to Hershel."

"Go," Rick said with preamble and Glenn planted his foot again, leaving it to the two men to follow.

The ride back to the house was the longest Daryl had ever endured. Though Glenn did his best to avoid bumps in the road many were unavoidable and Carol groaned quietly with each impact. The sound cut through Daryl like a knife and when he saw Glenn white knuckling the steering wheel he knew the boy felt the same.

Glenn brought the truck skidding to a halt outside the house and was out of his seat almost before the engine switched off. He ran around to Daryl's side of the car to help him lift Carol out of the truck.

Hershel and the others appeared on the porch as Glenn steadied Carol so Daryl could lift her into his arms again.

"What happened?" Lori cried in horror running down the steps.

"She got cut on some glass," Glenn answered as Daryl ignored the question and swept past Lori towards Hershel.

"Get yer bag man," he snapped to the old man.

Hershel didn't blink an eye at Daryl's tone just nodded. "Beth, get my things," he said over his shoulder and the girl vanished immediately.

"Take her to the main bedroom," Lori said running up the steps behind Daryl. "It's the best spot for her."

Hershel nodded again and held open the door for Daryl to carry her inside.

He settled her on the bed and stepped back as Hershel, Lori and Beth converged on the bed. He backed away until he hit the door frame as he watched Hershel begin to strip away the bandages. The room was too small, too confined and ashamed at his cowardice Daryl turned and fled the room.

He passed Glenn who was crouched beside Maggie where she sat with her foot elevated. His head was resting against the armrest and Maggie was stroking his hair. She looked up as Daryl passed and opened her mouth but Daryl pushed through the front door before she could speak.

Outside Rick and T-Dog were just returning. Rick met his eyes as he climbed the stairs but Daryl just shrugged before he could ask.

"Hershel's with her," he muttered.

"She's a tough lady," T-Dog said optimistically though his face still looked worried. "She'll pull through."

"Course she will," Rick said bracingly putting his hand on Daryl's shoulder.

Daryl shrugged away from Rick's hand. He didn't like the way they were looking at him, the way they were _all_ looking at him, like Carol's condition somehow meant more to him than the rest of the group.

"I'm goin ta hunt," he muttered reaching up to grip the strap of his crossbow and noticed that Rick's eyes focused on his hand. It was only then that he noticed Carol's blood had stained his hands and arms.

"Don't you think you should stick around?" Rick asked but Daryl ignored him, shoving his way past the other man. "How long will you be?" Rick shouted after him angrily but Daryl disappeared into the tree line without a word and without a backwards glance.

He strode swiftly through the trees without making any effort for silence or to look for game. Eventually he came to a stream and crouched down beside it. Lowering his hands into the water he watched as the blood began to wash away. Vigorously he began to scrub it off; continuing to scrub even when he was sure the last of it was gone.

He heard a light noise, like something pressing on dry leaves, and looked up to see a golden retriever staring at him from across the stream. The dog cocked its head to the side as it studied him and automatically Daryl reached around behind him for his crossbow.

"Don't even think about it," a voice said and Daryl's eyes flicked around the trees searching for the source. "I'd eat you before I'd eat him. Put the crossbow on the ground and stand up."

Daryl kept reaching for his crossbow anyway but as his fingers touched it an arrow appeared in the dirt just in front of his toes.

"Next one won't miss," the voice promised.

Daryl's eyes dropped to the dog as it took a step forward and bared its teeth in a threatening growl.

"I said put the crossbow on the ground and stand up."

Jaw clenched and furious Daryl lifted the strap of his crossbow over his head and left it on the ground as he rose slowly from his crouch.

"Shit," he muttered.


	7. Chapter 7

Again - my sincere and undying thanks for your patience! As always I'd love to hear your thoughts! - I own nothing.

* * *

She was looking for something but she couldn't for the life of her remember exactly what that was. There was a doll clutched in her hand, it belonged to someone and had been handed to her by someone else but that was all she knew.

She looked up at the tree that blocked her path and was startled to see a dark red arrow painted on it in what looked disturbingly like blood. Confusingly the arrow pointed in both directions. She glanced from left to right but both directions looked identical. She heard a voice away to her right and realised her feet were already moving towards it. It was a voice that was a part of her, a voice that no matter how much distance and time came between them would always be recognisable.

Sophia.

Carol rounded the corner and stopped dead when she came upon a campsite on top of a hill. A little girl was crouched in the dirt beside an unlit fire but she looked up when Carol appeared a smile breaking over her pretty face.

"Oh, you found her!" Sophia gushed and jumped to her feet. She brushed the dust from her knees before running to her mother and wrapping her arms tightly around her waist.

Despite the pain from the fierce hug Carol pulled Sophia closer. She pressed a kiss onto the top of her daughter's head, lingering there as the familiar scent washed over her. How could she have forgotten it was Sophia she searched for? It was always Sophia she looked for, always Sophia she ached to hold in her cold arms.

She disentangled herself enough to crouch in front of her, cupping her baby's face in her hands.

Sophia frowned, "Why are you crying?"

Carol just shook her head, smiling through her tears, "I'm just so happy to see you."

Sophia still looked confused and so she should. In this place - wherever Carol was - Sophia had never been lost, she'd never been alone, she hadn't died.

"Come and see," Sophia said grabbing Carol's hand and dragging her forward. Carol quickly straightened before she fell and hurried to keep up with her daughter.

"What are we seeing?" Carol asked and Sophia came to a halt.

"Daddy," Sophia replied calmly and pointed.

Carol looked ahead and saw Ed's body lying sprawled in the dust, his face a mangled mess. She looked down at her hand and saw she no longer held a doll in her hand but the bloody tool she'd used to put an end to the man forever. Even now she didn't have it in her to feel grief, or pity, or even relief when she looked at what had become of him. She had let go forever the second she'd brought that sharp point swinging down.

She turned away and saw that there were others all laid out in a row across the old campsite. There was Amy, so young and beautiful, and Jim and Jackie and Dale and so many others, so many lost. Down the end of the row was Andrea and Carol sank to her knees beside her. Andrea, who must have died even as she'd saved Carol's life that terrible night at the farm.

"I'll do it," a voice said and a hand half closed over hers as he tried to take the pick axe away.

"You don't have to do everything," Carol murmured and looked up into his eyes. But the sun shone over his shoulder, obscuring his face and forcing her to look away.

Darkness overtook her vision and she had the strange sensation of floating. The only thing she could focus on as she rose through the darkness was that her arms were empty again. Sophia was being left behind.

Her body felt heavy and lethargic and it was a struggle but somehow she managed to open her eyes only to see another pair above her. They were warm and brown and concerned, but they weren't eyes that mattered and so she closed her own and drifted away again.

* * *

He heard the crackle of leaves beneath a light foot first and his eyes snapped from the dog towards the source of the noise. It was a woman, her narrowed eyes as focused on him as the arrow on her bow. Her brown boots were scuffed but well made and her faded jeans worn through at the knees. The green flannelette shirt she wore as a jacket over a black top was several sizes too large and missing a sleeve. Her strawberry blonde hair was pulled back in a ponytail though a few strands had fallen loose to frame her face. But there was blood in her hair and on her thigh, the green flannelette sleeve she'd tied around the wound already soaking through.

It was her hand that caught his attention the most, the hand that was pulling back the string of the bow. Her hand was bloodied and mangled and he could see at least two of the fingers were dislocated. It must have been agony to pull back the string but that wasn't what worried Daryl. What concerned him was that at any moment her fingers might give out, that the pain would get too much, and the arrow would be released. Despite her state of health there was nothing wrong with her aim.

Movement caught his eye and his attention return to the dog as it splashed through the water towards him. Daryl held his ground as the dog approached but it wasn't interested in him. It grabbed the strap of his crossbow in its teeth and began dragging it back away from him.

With a snarl Daryl lunged forward without thinking, reaching for his weapon. The dog bared its teeth and dropped, covering the crossbow with its front paws.

"Leave it," the woman called and this time there was exhaustion and pain in her voice. "He won't let it go until I tell him."

"Then tell him," Daryl snapped swinging back to face her. "What tha hell do ya want anyway? I don't got nuthin."

"I know," the woman said not lowering her bow. "I need your help."

Daryl raised an eyebrow, "Ya want my help?"

"I don't _want_ your help, I _need_ your help, there's a distinct difference," she snapped with a flash of anger.

"Ya got a funny way of askin," Daryl replied coldly.

"How was I to know you wouldn't just shoot me as soon as you saw me?" the woman inquired. "You look like you know as well as I that strangers aren't as kindly these days as they once were."

Much to Daryl's relief she lowered the bow, easing the strain on her damaged fingers, but she didn't remove the arrow from the string.

"I saw the blood on you and was just going to let you pass but then I saw your face when you washed it off…" her voice trailed off as though she was unsure exactly how to describe what she had seen in that moment. "I thought you might help me," she finished quietly.

Daryl shook his head, "I got somewhere to be."

The woman stared at him for a moment. "I can't force you," she murmured at last and then she whistled. The dog pricked up his ears, swivelling his head to look over at her.

"Leave it Sammy," she called. "Come to me."

The dog immediately stood, relinquishing its guard on Daryl's crossbow and bounded back to the woman's side.

Daryl snatched up his weapon, his jaw tight with anger. He'd been disarmed by a woman, and an injured one at that. He turned to leave, intending to cut deeper into the forest before circling back to the group when he was sure he wasn't being followed. Who knew how many friends this woman had out there?

"Please," a voice said softly behind him. There was desperation and loathing in her voice, the desperation that was driving her plea and the loathing that she'd been reduced to begging. "He'll die."

He'd slung his crossbow over his shoulder and turned away but now he glanced back, "Who will?"

"My husband," she replied. The bandage around her leg had darkened as the blood continued to soak through it and he saw she was white to the lips. "There's an old logging road just on the other side of the ridge. The land slipped out from under us. My husband's still in the truck, I can't get him out and even if I could I'd never get him back by myself, not like this," she said gesturing at her leg and injured hand. "Look we've got food, medicine, weapons… more arrows for your crossbow! You can have it; you can have all of it! You're the only person I've seen out here, please help me. I can't just leave him to die!"

Daryl chewed his lip as he looked at her. Did he trust her? No. Did he think she _might_ be telling the truth? Possibly. There was a level of desperation in her eyes that Daryl thought would be hard to fake.

He thought about what Rick would do in this situation. The Rick he'd met months ago in his sheriff's uniform would have taken it upon himself to help this woman no questions asked. The Rick post the farm invasion and the Randall fiasco would be more hesitant. But no matter how hard Rick was becoming in the last few weeks his nature was still moulded towards helping, towards healing. He might not wear the uniform anymore but a part of him was still that sheriff. The only time this was challenged was when there was a direct threat to the group or his family. This woman could be leading him into a trap but she couldn't have any idea that the group was nearby, to her he was merely a passing stranger, apparently alone.

Thinking of the group brought his mind back to Carol. Carol, so still and pale as her life ran out with her blood from the wound in her leg. He couldn't go back there, not yet. Besides, if there was another group nearby he needed to check it out. To know what they might be facing, to know if they needed to move on and how quickly.

At least, that's what he told himself as his feet began to move back towards the woman, splashing through the water.

"Let me see ya hand," Daryl said as he drew closer.

She studied him warily and he could see how close she was to drawing back the bow again. Beside her the dog growled menacingly but didn't move to intercept. Her eyes flashed to his crossbow which was still over his shoulder.

She was nervous he could tell, obviously as untrusting of him as he was of her. But her need for help seemed to outweigh her fear as she slowly released the string and raised her hand.

Daryl held up both hands, palms outward, as he carefully closed the distance and reached out for her hand. She winced as he turned it, studying the damage. It was badly bruised and a deep wound had been crudely bandaged with another torn piece from her shirt. Three of her fingers, from middle finger to pinkie, were dislocated. He was impressed she'd drawn the bow at all, the pain must have been excruciating.

"This happen in the accident?" he asked raising his eyes from her hand.

She nodded silently.

"I need to put these back in place or ya could lose the use of them," Daryl said. He'd fixed a lot of dislocations in his life. His own a few times, after his father had got a hold of him, but mostly Merle's after he'd been fighting or most often when Merle would pop his shoulder out for a bar bet and was too drunk to put it back himself.

"It'll be painful," Daryl told her.

"More painful than it is now?"

_Crack._

She cried out in surprise and pain as Daryl set the middle finger. Her hand twitched in his and Daryl's gripped her wrist tighter in case she tried to pull away.

The dog growled and took a half step towards them but the woman shook her head. "No Sam, it's alright," she gasped. The dog paused and sat but didn't take its eyes off Daryl.

"What's ya name anyway?" he asked her.

"Jenna," she replied through gritted teeth and sucked in a sharp breath as with a _crack crack_ Daryl set the next two fingers in quick succession.

Her breathing was coming hard and fast and sweat had beaded on her forehead as she snatched her injured hand back. "Thanks," she muttered not sounding that particularly thankful.

She slowly flexed her fingers experimentally, wincing at the movement.

"Better?"

"A bit," she answered and looked up at him. "So you'll help?"

"For the moment," Daryl replied and unslung his crossbow, holding it ready in his hand. He made a gesture with his hand indicating for her to lead the way.

"I'm desperate, not stupid," Jenna said darkly. "You think I'm going to turn my back on a man with a loaded crossbow?"

Daryl rolled his eyes in exasperation, "If I was gonna hurt ya I wouldn't have fixed your bloody hand. If ya want my help let's go otherwise I'm walkin in the other direction."

"Sam," Jenna said without taking her eyes from Daryl's face. "Guard."

The dog rose to its feet and padded silently to stand behind Daryl. Daryl looked back at it uncertainly; he didn't like having it behind him.

Jenna smiled, though there was no humour in her expression, "Let's go."


	8. Chapter 8

It didn't take them long to reach the old logging road. It was thin and winding and the recent rain had made the road muddy and the edges unstable.

Jenna seemed to forget her caution of him as she ran across the road to where the edge had slipped away. When Daryl arrived she was already clambering carefully down the landslide to the half-buried white four wheel drive. The truck was wedged hard against a tree that had stopped its momentum down the steep slope.

He surveyed the scene with quick, appraising eyes before following Jenna's path down towards the stricken truck.

"Ryan," Jenna was calling, a faint sob in her breathless voice. "I'm back. Ryan, can you hear me?"

Daryl cursed under his breath as he hurried to catch up. If she kept calling out like that any walker in the vicinity would be down on them in a heartbeat.

"Keep it down," he hissed catching her arm but she shook him off.

"Ryan!" she cried arriving at the half buried driver's door.

The window was smashed and she reached through to the unconscious man behind the wheel. Her fingers pressed against his neck as she searched anxiously for a pulse. Daryl saw her shoulders sag in relief.

"He's still alive," she called back over her shoulder, her hand shifting from her husband's neck to stroke his cheek. "Ryan? Open your eyes baby, _please_!"

"We gotta get him out of there," Daryl said inching around her to better assess the situation. What with Jenna's shouting and the blood that coated both her and Ryan the arrival of walkers wasn't an 'if' it was 'when'.

Mud from the land slide blocked any hope of opening the driver's door and as Daryl looked in through the shattered windscreen he saw that mud had intruded the cabin and half buried the driver too.

"We're gonna have to get him out the passenger side," Daryl said after a moment and slung his crossbow over his shoulder as he vaulted over the crumpled bonnet. "Dig him out as much as ya can from your side."

Jenna nodded, using her uninjured hand to begin scraping mud away from the window.

Daryl arrived on the passenger side and saw where Jenna had been able to prop her door open enough to slide out. He wrenched it open a bit further and squeezed through the gap into the car.

The man's head lay back against the seat. His untidy brown hair was matted with blood and stubble lined his jaw. His nose was slightly crooked as though it had been broken once, or twice, before and with the blood coming from it now Daryl suspected it was broken again. He was a tall, broad shouldered man and Daryl knew at once why Jenna had elected to go for help. Injured or not there was no way she was getting him out of here by herself.

It took time but at last Daryl managed to manoeuvre the injured man out of the truck. Jenna was there to help lift the man down to the ground.

"How is he?" she asked as they lowered him.

"Alive," Daryl grunted. He didn't elaborate. Personally he thought that if the guy had been out of it this long then his prognosis probably wasn't great. As he looked down at the man's slack face he couldn't help thinking of Carol as she'd been when he'd last seen her. Face pale, eyes closed, completely unresponsive. Was she still hanging on like this man was or had she already let go? He should be there now, he knew that. Somehow she had become his responsibility. If she'd died then it fell to him to do what was necessary, no one else.

"There's rope in the back," Jenna was saying and Daryl snapped out of his dark thoughts. "We can use it to drag him up to the road."

Daryl looked at her for a moment, his face impassive. He could leave. He didn't know these people, he didn't owe them anything. But thinking of Carol left him cold and he couldn't force his feet to head back in that direction. She'd want him to help them. But was that why he was doing this or was it because he preferred to stay away and hide from his failure? At least this guy's condition wasn't his fault.

"Get it," Daryl said shortly.

It was harder than Daryl had imagined getting the tall man up the slope to the road but at last they were clearing the edge and Daryl slumped to his knees sucking in heaving breaths.

Jenna was sitting on the other side of Ryan her head on her knees and her eyes closed. The dog however was standing in the middle of the road with its head cocked slightly to one side.

"What's wrong with him?" Daryl asked looking over at the dog. His hackles were raised and a low growl was rumbling from his throat.

"Biters," Jenna muttered. Within seconds she was on her feet with the bow off her shoulder and an arrow on the string.

Daryl followed suite and they both turned to face the forest, putting their backs to each other.

It was another minute or so before Daryl heard the crunching of leaves that signalled a walker's lurching approach.

"How many ya got?" Daryl asked raising his crossbow as he sighted the first walker.

"Four," Jenna replied and though her voice was calm he heard the tight pinch of pain in it. "You?"

"Five," Daryl answered just as his arrow took the first through the skull. "Make that four."

They dispatched the gathered walkers with swift efficiency. Daryl glanced down at the dog but he'd stopped growling and was standing at Jenna's side leaning against her leg. Daryl took that to mean there were no more walkers and marched forward to reclaim his arrows. When he turned around Jenna was still standing in the same position, her arrows still lodged in the skulls of the surrounding corpses.

"Jenna?"

She half turned to face him, her hand held awkwardly at her side. There was fresh blood on her lip from where she had bitten through it while fighting the pain from drawing the bow.

"I'm fine," she muttered and stumbled forward to collect her own arrows. "How are we going to carry him?"

Daryl had already thought about that. While Jenna gathered her arrows Daryl set about finding tough branches and after cutting the rope into various lengths he lashed them altogether. When he was done he had a stretcher, it wasn't particularly strong or sturdy but it would have to do.

They half rolled half dragged Ryan onto the rough stretcher and Jenna picked up the head while Daryl took the feet.

"I'll take ya close enough to get help from yer own people," Daryl said as they began to walk down the logging road, slowly under Ryan's weight. "But I aint goin all the way."

"Just get me close enough to save him," Jenna gasped. "I won't stop you leaving, I promise."

They struggled on in silence for a while until Daryl noticed the pace begin to slacken further. Jenna's limp was gradually getting worse and at last Daryl called out to her to stop.

"No," she called back over her shoulder. "It's not much further, we can get there."

Daryl swore and lowered his end of the stretcher forcing Jenna to stop. "Ya can't help him if ya bleed to death," he snapped. "We'll take a break here for a bit before we keep going." He forced her to sit while he examined her make shift bandage.

The sleeve she had wrapped around it had completely soaked through and the blood stain on her jeans was spreading further down her leg.

He stared at the wound, making no move to touch it. Carol had been wounded in much the same place, losing blood at a similarly alarming rate. He had been helpless then and he was helpless now.

"My brother's wife was a nurse," Jenna said quietly. "Before the world went to shit. If we can just get back she can help him."

"Yeah, well, yer the problem right now," Daryl muttered without looking up. "I'm gonna need yer other sleeve."

She didn't hesitate, removing a knife from where it hung at her belt and handing it to him before lifting her arm. In two quick movements Daryl had torn through the stitching and pulled the sleeve off her arm.

She winced as he tied it tightly around the first and bit her damaged lip again but she didn't cry out.

"Where'd ya learn to use a bow?" he asked as he worked.

"My brothers taught me," Jenna replied tightly.

"Ya have brothers?"

"I had three of them," she answered as Daryl finished tying off the sleeve and moved back. "My mum died when I was two so then it was just my dad, my brothers and me. I'm not much for shopping or shoes but I'm pretty good at fixing an engine and throwing a football."

"That's great," Daryl muttered without really listening.

"We grew up on a ranch. I can remember this one time me and two of my brothers, Jared and Ben, went out to one of the rivers that cut across our property. We took one of the young horses, even though we weren't supposed to with asking Dad or my oldest brother Eathen. Jared slipped on one of the stones when we were there and busted his ankle. Ben hadn't hobbled the horse and it got spooked by one of the dogs and ran off. Jared was only a couple of years older but he was having his growth spurt early and he was a lot bigger and heavier than Ben and me. We had to carry him all the way back, it took us 6 hours. Dad was so mad when we finally got back. Eathen had to go out and find the horse and Dad had to drive Jared 2 hours to the nearest hospital."

"Ya talk a lot," Daryl grumbled examining his arrows and wiping the ones used to kill the walkers clean with a rag. "Anyone told ya it's best to just shut up these days?"

"What…because someone could use this information against me?" Jenna snorted. "Everything I'm talking about doesn't exist anymore. No one can use it against me if there's nothing left."

"Well if it's gone why bother talkin about it?"

"So that I don't forget," Jenna said quietly. "Isn't there anything in your life you'd hang onto if you could?"

Daryl shook his head. There wasn't a damn thing in his past he'd be sorry to forget.

"No family or anything?"

"I got a brother," Daryl answered before he could stop himself. "He was the only family worth a damn back then."

Jenna drummed her uninjured fingers on her knee for a second before asking, "Is he the one that belonged to the finger paint?"

Daryl glanced down at his hands. Some of Carol's blood still lingered there despite his wash in the river.

"Nah, lost my brother ages back." He rubbed at the blood stain on his wrist. "This belongs to… my friend," he said after a moment.

"I'm sorry," Jenna said softly.

"She aint dead," Daryl snapped and got to his feet. "Come on, I got places to be."

"You're scared," Jenna said following suit and climbing unsteadily to her feet.

"I aint fuckin scared."

"You are," Jenna persisted. "You're afraid she's going to die. You were running away when I met you weren't you?"

Daryl scowled wordlessly and moved around to Ryan's feet, "Ya want my help or not?"

"Look, I'm guessing by how fiercely you're trying to hide that it isn't looking good for her. I know it isn't any of my business but I don't think you should hide from it. I can tell that you're afraid but trust me, if you run away and she does die… you will always regret not being with her."

"You sound like you'd know."

"I might."

Daryl stood with his head bowed, refusing to look up at her. "Might be I'm hidin," he said at last reluctantly. "But maybe I'm just sick of havin to do tha right thing."

"What do you mean?"

Daryl didn't answer. He could all too well imagine standing in that small bedroom watching Carol slip silently away. Then it would fall to him to ensure she didn't come back. Well maybe he didn't want to be there; maybe he didn't want to be the one to do it this time. Not Carol. He'd hate himself if he did… he'd hate himself if he didn't.

"What about if he dies," Daryl asked gesturing at Ryan.

"Then at least I'll be with him," Jenna said softly.

"So yer completely fine being tha one ta put a bullet in his brain?"

Jenna blinked, "Why the hell would I do that?"

Daryl frowned, "So he won't turn..."

"He wasn't bit!"

"Don't matter," Daryl shrugged. "Haven't you heard yet? We're all infected."

Jenna just stared at him, "Where did you hear that?"

"Some scientist," Daryl said dismissively. "Who cares where, I've seen it happen."

Jenna's eyes dropped to her husband's face. "So if he dies he'll become one of those things?"

"Yep."

She laughed softly, humourlessly, and sank back down to the ground dropping her heard forward into her hands. "Well, that explains a lot," she muttered to the dirt. She looked up at him and he was slightly surprised at how calmly she was taking the news.

"You know, I've always had this day dream about heading to the coast and finding a boat or plane or something and getting the hell out of here. Head for the Hawaiian Islands, the Caribbean or Australia or something, somewhere surrounded by water. Somewhere maybe this hasn't spread, where we'd be safe." She put her hand on Sam's head, scratching him absently behind the ear. "But if this 'disease' or whatever it is has gone global, if everyone has it, then that means there's nowhere to go… there's nothing." As though sensing the woman's distress Sam lifted his head and licked her hand. Jenna met Daryl's eyes as he nodded.

"Well fuck!"

Despite himself Daryl smirked, "About sums it up."

"No wonder you don't want to be with your friend," Jenna murmured. "You just don't want to have to shoot her do you?"

Again Daryl didn't answer but Jenna seemed to take his silence for ascent.

She sucked in a deep breath and let it out slowly. "Then let's go," she said swiftly and clambered back to her feet. "If we can get him back to Hailey then hopefully I won't have to go through what you're going through."

* * *

It seemed like forever before the forest ended and the run down house loomed ahead of them. Daryl was now carrying the head end of the stretcher. He and Jenna had traded off some time ago to give her the lighter end of the stretcher. Now he put it down with relief, his arms aching.

Jenna fell to her knees as she lowered her end. She looked completely done in. Her face was pale and drawn, her limp had considerably worsened during the trip and Daryl seriously doubted if her right hand would ever be the same again.

He heard the crash of a door being thrown open and Daryl spun to see two men appear on the sagging veranda. The first man held a rifle in his hands and seemed confident in its use as he trained it on Daryl. The second man had a crossbow, not unlike Daryl's own, which was also pointed in his direction.

"What are you doing here?" the first man asked descending the house stairs. His voice was deep and cold, his expression hard. Daryl didn't doubt that if it came down to it the man would shoot him without hesitation.

"No!" Jenna cried out scrambling to her feet and staggered forward to plant herself firmly in front of Daryl. "Eathen don't! It's alright, he's helping me."

"Jen!" the man exclaimed when he saw her, his eyes widening in horror though he didn't lower the gun. "What happened to you? Who the hell is this guy?" he demanded jabbing the gun in the direction of Daryl's head.

Daryl pushed Jenna aside as he met the man glare for glare. He wasn't going to hide behind some bloody woman. "Aint none of yer business," Daryl snarled.

"There was an accident Eathen," Jenna said before calling to the second man who held the crossbow. "Jared, Ryan's hurt!"

Jared's expression changed from hostile to alarmed in an instant and he lowered the crossbow from where it had been targeted at Daryl's chest. "Hailey!" Jared called back into the house and brushed past his brother as he ran to where Ryan lay motionless.

"What happened?" Jared asked Jenna as a young, dark haired woman and a boy who could only have been about sixteen emerged from the house.

"There was a landslide," Jenna was explaining. "The truck got caught up in it. Ryan's been out of it since it happened." She glanced at Eathen who had lowered the gun slightly but still held it ready. "Eathen, there's something you should probably know."

The dark haired woman reached them and leaned over Ryan to begin assessing his injuries. The boy also held a gun in his hands as he came to stand beside Eathen. They looked so alike Daryl figured they had to be father and son.

Daryl made to back away but the dog had materialised behind him and he would have bumped into it but for the low growl that rumbled from its chest. At the sound Jenna looked around.

"Jared, give me your arrows," Jenna said holding out her hand. Jared hesitated but when she clicked her fingers insistently he handed her the bundle.

"What are you doing?" Eathen asked striding forward to catch her arm. "We can't just let him go."

"Of course we can," Jenna said scathingly. "What are you going to do, take him prisoner?"

Daryl felt for the strap of his crossbow though knew it would be little use against the rifle.

"He knows where we are."

"We'll move on when Ryan can move," Jenna snapped. "Daryl saved us Eathen. Ryan and I would both have died out there if he hadn't helped. He didn't have to but he did. Now let me go." She pulled her arm free of her brother's grasp and held out the arrows to Daryl. "Here," she said pressing them into his hands. "Thank you, for everything," she said fervently. "I owe you one."

Her uninjured hand was still on the arrows and Daryl lightly, awkwardly, patted the back of it, "Good luck alright?"

The corner of her mouth twitched in a slight smile, "You too."

He slung his crossbow over his shoulder and with sure, firm strides began to retrace their steps back to the edge of the forest.

"Daryl," she called and he glanced back over his shoulder. "I really hope your friend is okay."

He nodded once and turned away again. As soon as he'd entered the forest and was out of sight of the group by the house he began to run.

* * *

It was still dark, the sun having not cleared the horizon yet, when Daryl got back to the house. Glenn was on watch when he came striding up, his eyes widening when he caught sight of Daryl. Though he'd slowed to a walk when he came towards the edge of the forest in an effort to control his breathing Daryl was still sweaty, dirty and blood stained.

"What happened to you?" Glenn asked but Daryl ignored him brushing past the younger man as he charged into the house.

It seemed ominous to him that not one of them was asleep. They were all gathered in the lounge room and kitchen and stared at him as he came bursting into the house.

"Where have you been?" Rick asked standing up. The man's eyes were heavily shadowed and he looked like he'd aged 10 years since Daryl had seen him last. Rick was similarly appraising him and Daryl could only imagine what he looked like to the others.

"Busy," Daryl muttered and rounded on Lori as she stepped out of the bedroom. He glanced past her shoulder to the still ajar bedroom door. "Is she-?"

Lori ran a hand wearily through her hair, her expression heavily lined with grief. "I don't know," she said at last. "We've given her blood but she'd lost so much! She's fading… I think she's waiting for you."

Daryl felt cold as he stepped past Lori towards the bedroom. An uncomfortable lump was growing in his throat and something dark had settled in the pit of his stomach. They were all watching him but he didn't care. It didn't matter that he'd left, he was back now. Reaching out he pushed open the door and crossed the threshold.

* * *

She was watching Sophia play in the back garden. She didn't know where Ed was nor did she care, some part of her just understood that he wouldn't be coming back. Somewhere a song was playing and she cocked her head to the side as she listened to the drifting lyrics.

"…_I will search for light in the darkness,_

_Though I stumble through shadow and shade._

_Oh, if you are with me,_

_Of whom shall I be afraid?"_

She heard a baby's gurgling laugh and looked around to see Lori gently rocking the infant in her arms. The smile on her face was warmer than Carol had ever seen it and she smiled herself to see Carl eagerly looking over Lori's shoulder. Instead of a gun the boy held a baseball mitt and though she wasn't sure why it should, the sight made Carol feel glad.

"…_You have lifted me up when I have fallen_

_And driven the ghost from my door._

_You have comforted me in my sorrow,_

_Wiped my brow when I've been sick and sore…"_

Carol got out of her chair and crossed the lawn to where Sophia played. She crouched down on her knees in the grass and reached for the discarded doll beside her daughter. Sophia glanced up at her and smiled, "Will you play Mummy?"

There was somewhere she needed to be Carol knew but as she looked at Sophia she found herself nodding, she never could deny that girl anything.

"…_oh if you are with me_

_Of whom shall I be afraid?"_

She was aware of eyes on them and looked around to see several figures standing stationary in front of the trees that lined the edge of the garden. They were all silently watching and Carol thought there was something expectant in their gazes. Rick, Hershel, Glenn, Maggie and the rest, they were all there. But as Carol's eyes trailed over them it occurred to her that there was someone missing.

"Aren't you playing Mummy?" Sophia said tugging at her arm. "Stay with me and play."

"Of course," Carol said turning her back to the waiting group. "I'll stay here with you." She looked down at the doll in her hands. The dress was torn and muddy and there was leaves stuck in its hair.

"It was lost in the woods," Sophia said looking at it. "It doesn't fit in the game anymore."

A shadow fell over them both and Carol looked up, shielding her eyes against the sun. It shone behind the figure's face and she couldn't make out his features.

"Who are you?" she asked. "What do you want?"

He didn't speak or move and after a second she had to look away, blinking tears from her eyes and temporarily blinded by the sun.

"…_we will stand at the rock together,_

_Hold fast and ride out this storm._

…_Oh, if you are with me,_

_Of whom shall I be afraid?"_

The garden was empty and the light fading fast. Carol realised she no longer held the doll and searched the grass anxiously with scrabbling hands but it was lost. She sat back on her feet and closed her eyes unsure what to do or where to go next. After a moment she looked around again only to find that the shadows had grown darker. To her left Sophia stood with the sinking sun behind her and her hand outstretched, waiting for Carol to hold it. To her right the figure stood with the night sky dark behind him and his hand in his pocket, the other holding the strap of something slung over his shoulder. He had no hand extended out to her but it was clear he was waiting for her to join him nonetheless.

Carol slowly got to her feet, her eyes locked on her daughter. The memories were coming back now and swiftly. Sophia, lost in the woods. Sophia, emerging from the barn bitten and snarling.

"You died," Carol whispered brokenly and tears streamed down her cheeks.

"I did," Sophia said gravely. "But I'm here Mummy; you don't have to be alone anymore. You can stay with me."

"I want to baby; you have no idea how much I want to." Carol took a hesitant step towards her, all she wanted to do was gather her daughter in her arms and never let go.

"You're not done yet," a voice said behind her. It was low and gravelly and more familiar to her than Carol dared admit. "There's people still countin on ya."

The voice was like a physical pressure tugging at her and reluctantly she tore her eyes away from Sophia and turned to face it but when she had she faced only darkness and suddenly she was falling.

...

She slowly opened her eyes only to see another pair above her. They were guarded and blue and vulnerable, but they were eyes that mattered and so she held on and ever so faintly smiled.

* * *

_Song lyrics from: Jim Byrnes – Of whom shall I be afraid_


	9. Chapter 9

It was like watching a lamb learning to walk. She was unsteady as she tottered across the room on shaking legs but at least she was up. He supposed that much he should be grateful for. That she was alive at all was a miracle.

When she turned to face him she was breathless but a victorious grin was on her face. "Told you I could do it," she gasped.

"I guess I should stop underestimating ya," Daryl replied from his position against the dresser, his arms folded across his chest. "Reckon yeh can get back?"

Carol snorted, "Course." She turned around and slowly made her pondering way back to the bed. He saw her knees give out as she sank back down on the edge of the bed and noticed her relief to be sitting again. Though she was on the mend it would still be a long road back.

"How much longer can we stay here?" Carol asked as she leant back against the pillows.

"As long as we need to." Daryl moved forward and yanked the blankets back up over her legs. He realised what he was doing and flushed slightly as he stepped back stopping short of actually tucking her in but Carol appeared not to notice.

"But Lori told me you ran into people out there," Carol protested. "Shouldn't we be moving on?"

Inwardly Daryl swore. Rick's bloody woman never could keep her tongue in check. "Once ya strong enough," he answered calmly. "Those people don't know where we are and I don't reckon they're a danger to us anyhow."

"How do you know?"

"One of em was hurt real bad," he answered with a shrug. "Reckon they got enough to deal with without searchin out trouble."

He'd told Rick much the same, a much edited version of the true events. He didn't know why he wasn't telling the group exactly what had happened only that it was for protection. Whether he was protecting their group or Jenna and her family he wasn't sure.

Carol narrowed her eyes as she searched his face, "What happened out there Daryl?

Daryl turned away and didn't answer, why could she always read him so easily?

He sighed, running a hand wearily through his hair and sat down on the end of the bed. "I ran into some people who needed help."

"And you helped them," Carol said. It wasn't a question. She knew what kind of man Daryl Dixon was at heart. Despite the tough exterior he presented he was a good man. "Who were they?"

"A woman and her husband, they were caught in a landslide and they were both pretty banged up but he was in really bad shape. I helped her get him back ta her family."

"Was he okay?"

Daryl shrugged a shoulder, "I dunno. One of em was a nurse so maybe she was able ta help him but I don't think so. Without proper medical help I don't reckon he was survivin it."

"How awful," Carol said quietly.

Daryl didn't reply. In his mind's eye he could see Jenna leaning through the car window to reach her stricken husband. There had been so much desperation, fear, longing and love in her face and voice in that moment.

"I'm glad you decided to help them," Carol said reaching out to put her hand on his arm.

It was a mark of how close they had become that he didn't shake her off immediately. "You woulda done it too," he muttered.

Carol smiled gently, "That's not the point."

He got up, awkwardly scratching at the back of his neck. "Get some rest," he mumbled. "I'll check on ya later."

She smiled again as she settled back against her pillows again. "Daryl?" she called as he reached the door. He paused, glancing back at her with a cocked eyebrow. "Thank you."

"Fer what?"

"For everything."

He rubbed the back of his neck again, "I aint done nothin ta be thanked for."

She sighed as he left the room without a backwards glance. She wished she could tell him that it had been him that had saved her life. That it had been because of him that she had clung to life. That he had brought her back. But she knew if she even began to articulate this he would run in the opposite direction. He was too important to her now to make things that awkward between them. She closed her eyes but didn't sleep.

* * *

Carol's recovery was remarkable after that. Within a day or two of her first venture from bed she was up and moving around the house – albeit slowly. For those two days Daryl was like her shadow watching her every move silently, ensuring she had everything she needed and forcing her to rest when she would keep going.

No one missed this new attachment but no one was stupid enough to comment on it.

On the third day Rick came to find Daryl as he sat out on the front porch on watch. Carol was sleeping in the study where she had relocated herself once she was up and around again. From his position on the porch Daryl could hear anything that transpired through the open window to the study and figured he could hear her easily if she woke and needed anything.

He was studying the arrows that Jenna had given him for his crossbow. They were homemade but strong and sturdy. Most were ready for use but a couple needed adjustments and these Daryl was plucking out of the bundle.

Rick watched him silently for a moment. "We should move on," Rick said at last when Daryl made it clear he wasn't going to begin a conversation. "Carol's strong enough now," he added when Daryl still didn't speak. "We've already lingered here too long."

"It won't matter if we wait a day or two more," Daryl replied glancing up at the sky. "I reckon some bad weathers gonna be rolling through. We'd do better to hole up til it passes."

"No, if these people come looking for us we can't afford to be caught here," Rick said firmly. "It's not a good defensive position. I say we head out now and head south. We'll see about finding some shelter once we've put a few more hours between us and them."

Daryl hesitated. Usually he was the first to back Rick up; he didn't waste time arguing or planning he just did what had to be done. Carol's injury had changed that. While she was still so weak and defenceless he didn't want her out there.

Rick seemed to be reading his mind. "We'll take it easy," he said reassuringly. "She won't have to do anything but sit in the car until we find somewhere to stop for the night."

"He's right Daryl," he heard her voice call through the window and rolled his eyes in irritation. Of course she wasn't asleep. "I'll be fine, we should go."

"Yeh heard tha lady," Daryl grumbled and Rick clapped him on the back as both men stood.

It took them less than fifteen minutes to have everything loaded in the vehicles.

With T-Dog's help Daryl loaded his motorbike into the back of the ute that T-Dog, Hershel and Beth would be occupying. He wouldn't be riding it this trip. Until Carol had her strength back she wasn't getting further from him than he could help and in her condition she shouldn't be hanging onto the back of the motorbike.

Everyone began to spread out into the vehicles and Daryl glanced around as Carol exited the house with Lori. She looked at him questioningly and in answer he opened the passenger door of the car he had commandeered for them before striding around to the driver's side.

Carol settled back in her seat as the convoy left the property. She couldn't help glancing back at it in the side mirror as it fell away behind them. The house – though nothing flash – had been warm and comfortable with working electricity. She was sad to leave it but knew Rick had the right of it. If people were close it was safer to keep the group moving on.

The afternoon passed swiftly into evening and with each passing minute the weather – and Daryl's mood – grew darker.

Forks of lightning split the heavy storm clouds followed seconds later by rumbling thunder. Trees were being tossed about in the wind and Carol huddled in her seat as rain began to lash across the windscreen.

As darkness fell visibility was getting close to nil and Carol could practically feel Daryl's anger rolling off him in waves.

"We can't keep going," Carol called over the sound of the storm. "You can't see anything!"

It was true. The lights of the car in front were shimmering in and out of vision. Sometimes minutes would pass before they were spotted again through the wild night.

"We're going to lose each other," she added. "That's if someone doesn't crash first!"

"I told y'all ta wait till tha weather passed," Daryl snapped.

"Yes, as usual you were right, but that doesn't help us now!"

"Well we can't stop out here," Daryl said leaning forward as he tried to see more clearly through the windscreen. The wipers were going at full speed and still it barely made a dent in the constant stream of water across the windscreen. Every now and then the car would jolt and skid on unseen pools of water. Carol's knuckles were white as she gripped the door handle.

"We'll jus have ta keep goin till we find somewhere to hole up n wait it out."

Carol leaned forward in her seat as well, peering through the windscreen anxiously. It was impossible to see more than a few feet in front of them and soon T'dog's truck was lost from sight again.

Suddenly Daryl slammed on the brakes and the car slid to a halt on the wet road. They stared in silence at what little of the scene they could see. The river had risen drastically in the sudden deluge of water. A low bridge spanned the torrent connecting the two sides of the road. Across the river they could just make out headlights and realised the others had already crossed.

The water was rushing under the bridge and beginning to lap over the edge but for the moment it was still clear. It was almost impossible to see through the driving rain as Daryl drove onto the bridge and they were only halfway across when disaster struck. The river surged and the car was shunted sideways as water flooded over the bridge. Carol screamed as she clutched for a hold but the car shuddered as it became caught on the bridge railing and stuck fast.

The water was rising and fast, already it was obscuring the headlights. Carol's heart was thundering in her chest. The water was hammering into the side of the car and was seeping in through the gaps. Dirty water already covered the floor to their ankles and was climbing quickly. Carol couldn't believe it, she had never seen water rise that fast!

"Out," Daryl barked.

Carol didn't hesitate, maneuvering herself through the window and clambering up onto the roof. The water washed around them the car beneath them shaking and shuddering with the impact. Daryl leaned out the window and passed his crossbow up to Carol before climbing out to join her. Seconds after he'd left the interior water began to pour in through the open window.

"Now what?" Carol shouted over the roar of the water and the rumble of thunder far overhead.

He could barely make out her features through the darkness and the driving rain but on what little he could see he saw fear.

She knew there was no way out of this.

He didn't answer as he looked around helplessly. They were too far to receive any aid from land and there was no hope of swimming through the raging water. He looked down to see the water was halfway up the window now, another few minutes and the car would be completely submerged. With nothing to hold onto the water would take them. The car lurched and Daryl watched in horror as the front tyres slipped. Carol screamed as the roof slanted bringing the water up over the edge.

There was no time for anything else except to crush her body to him and hold on more tightly than he'd ever held anything.

Then the water hit them.

They were swept from the roof of the car, the rushing water sweeping them end over end until Daryl didn't know which way was up. He couldn't see, he couldn't breathe, he could only feel Carol in his arms as he desperately tried to hold onto her and wrap his body around her to protect her from the debris in the water that battered them.

His head broke the water and he sucked a breath into his screaming lungs but lost it almost immediately when his back slammed into something and drove that precious air out of his lungs. His instincts kicked in and holding Carol tightly with one arm he flung the other over the object they had hit. The water was battering them against it but Daryl didn't let go. He tried to manoeuvre Carol closer to it as she weakly fought the water to get her own grip on it. Daryl blinked water out of his eyes and glanced up briefly to see it was a tree that had been lodged against a storage container.

"Get up!" he tried to shout to her and choked as water washed over him, threatening to pull them down again. She tried but the hold the water had on her was too strong and she couldn't pull herself free.

There was only one thing for it. He let go of his hold on the tree and pushed off it, using the last of his momentum to push her up and onto it before the water could pull him down.

Carol gripped the tree tightly using the leverage Daryl had given her to pull her legs free of the river. Gasping and shaking with fear and exertion she turned to help pull him up only to see that he had disappeared.

"Daryl!" Carol shouted her voice straining to be heard over the noise of the water. "Daryl!" she screamed when there was no answer but again there was no response. She searched the water in vain but he was nowhere in sight.

The tree lurched under the force of the water and unsure how long it would remain wedged against the storage container Carol slowly began to make her way along the tree back to the bank.

Her limbs were shaking with fatigue by the time she clambered up the bank but she refused to lie down instead pushing off the sodden ground to stand, however unsteadily, on her feet. The driving wind and rain battered against her and she wrapped her arms around her middle against the cold.

Staggering but knowing she couldn't stop Carol began to head down river, her eyes searching the water and bank intently.

"Daryl!" she screamed repeatedly, hoping for nothing more than his hoarse southern drawl to answer her out of the wild night. She stumbled down river for what felt an eternity, her voice growing hoarse as she continually called his name, her fear rising inside her with every step at the thought that he might be gone.

Then she saw him.

He was lying face down on the river's edge having evidently managed to pull himself free of the river. His cheek rested against the mud, his eyes closed and his body completely still. His crossbow lay in the mud beneath his hand, its strap snapped. How he had managed to keep a hold of it Carol would never know.

"Daryl!" Carol cried rushing forward to fall to her knees at his side.

She turned him over, in the process half pulling him onto her lap as she supported his head. He groaned and she began to laugh as relief filled her so intensely she felt dizzy.

"It's alright, it's alright," she told him as he struggled to return to consciousness. "I've got you."

"Me leg," he muttered as soon as he was aware enough to register the pain coursing through his body.

"Just stay still," Carol said her eyes on the mangled mess of his leg. "It'll be alright. It's my turn to look after you now."

He looked up at her and Carol's breath caught as she saw in his eyes a look she had never expected to see in him when looking at another person.

Trust.


End file.
